Honestly, Ronald
by My Dear Professor McGonagall
Summary: A series of one-shots from the frequently hectic and passionate lives of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. A sibling piece to "Really, Arthur" and "Oh, Harry."
1. Peanut Butter & Jelly Time

14 November 1995 — Peanut Butter and Jelly Time

Ron dropped onto a bench and shook his head like a dog, spraying water a good five feet around him.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, holding _A History of Magic_ in front of her face as a shield and then scowling as she saw the water all over the cover. Harry, sitting across from her, laughed, but quickly sobered at Hermione's glare.

"Really, Ron?" Hermione asked rather coldly.

Ron stared at her for a moment, opening his mouth to retort, when Ginny joined him and sat down, shaking her own head. Lavender and Parvati yelped and moved down the table, away from the rain-sodden Quidditch players. Both Weasleys leaned forward, reaching for the nearest platters of food and piling their plates with chicken legs and rolls. Practice had run longer than usual, even in the awful rain that had been falling all week.

Hermione wiped her face, scowling at her friends. "Charming, the pair of you, really. Do you _know_ what time it is?"

"Nngh."

Hermione rolled her eyes at their stuffed mouths. "I'd hurry up if I were you." She glanced over her shoulder at the staff table, where a glowering Professor Umbridge stared out over the Great Hall, looking for troublemakers. "The DA meeting is in ten minutes," she said quietly.

Ginny choked, and Ron's mouth fell open in horror. Hermione looked revolted.

"Didn't Angelina pay attention to the time?" Harry asked.

"Damn it," said Ginny, swinging herself back over the bench and quickly leaving the Hall so that she could dry off before reporting to the Room of Requirement. She seized a roll on her way out, shaking out her still-wet hair. She ran into three grumpy-looking Chasers as they walked in the door, giving them a meaningful look. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina sighed and turned to follow Ginny.

Ron looked mournfully at his pile of uneaten chicken.

"I'm going up. Don't let too many people follow me," said Harry quietly to Hermione, who nodded.

Ron was still staring at the food piled on the tables all around him with the wistful air of one who had recently lost a dear friend.

"Oh, honestly, Ron. There are worse things than skipping a meal. Let's go," Hermione said. Ron looked at her, his eyes wide and plaintive. "Maybe Fred and George will get something from the kitchens," she told him. Ron's eyes grew wider.

Hermione sighed. "All right. Peanut butter and jelly time."

"What?" said Ron, looking suddenly fearful for her sanity.

"Peanut butter and jelly time." Hermione began looking up and down the House table for the necessary ingredients. "Meghan, can I have the—thanks," she said, accepting a small bowl full of peanut butter and spreading a spoonful on half of a roll. Looking down the table once again, Hermione reached past a third-year boy for a bowl full of strawberry jelly and spooned some onto the other half of the roll.

"There," she said. "Quick and easy, now let's go!" She glanced about the Great Hall; there were no other DA members.

Ron took the sandwich from Hermione with a big smile on his face. "You're the greatest, Hermione," he said, taking a huge bite. "I dunno wha I do wufout you."

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. "Come on, Ron."

* * *

><p>Hey everybody! So I'm a bit of a challenge junkie at the moment. This was written for the "Halls of Hogwarts Challenge" by xXSexgoddessXx. My pair was Ron &amp; Hermione. Basically, I'm the queen of the one-shot, so that's what we're getting here. Everything's got a date and the prompt at the top. Er...what else...One chapter a day, thanks for reading, and send me a note if you like it, I'd love to hear from you!<p>

Lucy


	2. Voldemort's Nipple

21 January 1998 — Voldemort's Nipple

Even after Ron came back, times in the tent were hard on them all. It was painful to be constantly alone with one's thoughts, which, at one time or another, was how they all felt. How would these last few months have been different if they had refused their mission? Surely, they told themselves, they were in the right? They had to keep fighting.

Hermione, grateful as she was for Ron's return, found herself finding it harder and harder to see the positive side of spending night after night freezing in the middle of a million different nowheres, making meals out of practically nothing, never feeling truly safe.

One night the tent flap was open; Harry was standing the first guard shift while Ron and Hermione slept. Or tried to sleep. Neither was having much success. Ron was examining the sword of Gryffindor with a kind of listless interest, while Hermione yet again perused the pages of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. She gave a small snort. Ron poked his head out and looked up at Hermione lying on her stomach on the top bunk.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Some of these stories are so _funny_," Hermione said with a slight smile.

Ron scoffed. "I'll bet you I can come up with something funnier," he said.

"That'll be the day," Harry called from outside. Hermione snorted again.

"All right, then," said Ron, now getting excited. "All right, here, I've got one." Hermione closed the book, looking down at Ron. Harry leaned closer to the open flap. "One day, way back when, good old You-Know-Who's walking down…walking down…erm…Tottenham Court Road! And he sees this one Muggle, who's all in black leather, and he's got all these…what do you call them? Pursings?"

"Piercings," said Harry and Hermione together.

"Right, right, piercings. Double piercings on his nose, and his eyebrows, and his ears, all over his face. And he's got skull tattoos and all that. He really looks like a monster, totally tough, cause he's got all these bits of metal hanging off him, right?"

Hermione leaned over the bunk to look out the tent flap at Harry, who, though he was staring away from them, keeping watch, was starting to grin.

Ron continued. "See, You-Know-Who, well, he wasn't used to Muggles looking quite like that. It was unnerving for him, right? And he thinks to himself, 'I've gotta do something, I've got to be tougher than that bloke.' So what does he do? He steps into a tattoo parlor, asks the man for a really tough-looking piercing, a _triple _piercing. But the Muggle in the shop, he's so afraid of the ugly old bastard, he's not paying attention to what he's doing, and—"

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked. Harry's laughter echoed outside, and for a long while they all lapsed into hysterics, not calming down until their sides were sore.

Even after Ron came back, times in the tent were hard on them all. It was painful to be constantly alone with one's thoughts, which, at one time or another, was how they all felt.

But things were much less difficult if one could only imagine the Dark Lord's nipple ring.

* * *

><p>I was so surprised at the positive response you all gave me! Thank you very much, and special thanks to LVB, who is an awesome readerreviewer! Hope you like this one, it makes me giggle.

Lucy


	3. Make Me A Sandwich

18 May 2006 — Make Me A Sandwich

Hermione rolled over in bed yet again, still struggling to get comfortable. She frowned at the outline of her snoring husband. _This is all his fault, too_, she thought, feeling the baby kick suddenly and rubbing her eight-month belly.

"Easy there," she whispered, patting her middle. She stared at Ron, who was very soundly asleep and comfortable.

It was a combination of the ghoul's banging on the pipes as well as the baby's movement that had woken Hermione at three o'clock in the morning. She and Ron were staying over at the Burrow the night before George and Angelina Johnson were to be married. It was difficult to coordinate Hermione's travel from London, as Apparition was inadvisable during the third trimester, so she and Ron had Flooed up early from their flat a day early so that she might have time to rest and readjust. Molly and Arthur had only too happily taken them in.

Hermione watched Ron snore loudly for several minutes before leaning over to kiss him softly. "Ron," she said softly. "Ronald…"

He snuffled a little but did not move. Hermione rolled her eyes and poked him in the shoulder. "Ron!"

He jerked awake. "Whuzzit?" He rubbed his face and looked at Hermione blearily. "Yooalrye?" he mumbled.

Hermione nodded. "I can't sleep. Would you get me something to eat? We're hungry," she told him, rubbing her belly and batting her eyelashes.

Ron closed his eyes and nodded. "Unnghh," he said, pulling himself out of bed. "Choowannythinspeshl?" Ron asked, rubbing his face.

Hermione wiggled her way up into a sitting position and shook her head. "Anything's fine, thanks."

Ron opened the door and was on the landing when she stopped him.

"Actually, Ron?"

He popped his head back into the room.

"Make me a sandwich?" Hermione smiled sweetly at him. Ron nodded again, fumbling for the stairs.

* * *

><p>Tee hee. Thanks for reading everyone, my traffic SHOT up yesterday. Please shoot me a message or something if you like the story, I love to hear reactions!<p>

Lucy


	4. Amortentia

2 September 1996 — Amortentia

Professor Slughorn gestured to the cauldron on the table before his sixth-year students. Before he could finish asking them what the contents were, Hermione's hand shot into the air.

"It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognized, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell different to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment, and—"

But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence. Professor Slughorn asked Hermione her name, and sounded very impressed when he learned that she was Muggleborn. Ron, however, wasn't listening. He was staring at the cauldron full of Amortentia. He had wondered where the scent of cinnamon that seemed so familiar was coming from, and now he knew.

Ron's mouth hung open slightly as the Amortentia's smell wafted over him. A daydream more powerful than anything Fred and George stocked at the joke shop suddenly filled his brain. He was standing with Hermione on the banks of the lake in the fading autumn light, his fingers entwined in her hair as they kissed.

She was so warm; Ron could never imagine not holding her in his arms and smelling that wonderful, sharp cinnamon in her hair. Dream-Hermione looked up at him, brown eyes smiling, and as he leaned in for another kiss, he heard Real-Hermione's voice.

"Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry!" she said excitedly, squeezing Harry's arm.

Ron frowned as he was jarred back to reality. He was inexplicably annoyed, and his cheeks and neck felt suddenly hot. "Well, what's so impressive about that? You _are_ the best in the year—I'd've told him so if he'd asked me." He continued to frown to himself as Hermione shushed him. The cinnamon scent wafting from the cauldron had taken on a metallic quality; it burned his nose and throat now. He looked away as Slughorn blathered on about something he didn't really care to hear about.

* * *

><p>Well hey there! I was so happy at all the reviews I woke up to this morning, I wanted to post the next chapter. And hey, McAbbyGirl4Life , look! HBP! I didn't know it was coming up this fast. Hope you all enjoy!<p>

Love, Lucy


	5. Firewhisky

24 August 1998 — Firewhisky

"Shh," Hermione whispered, giggling. "Your parents are probably still up."

Ron hiccupped and hefted Harry, who grinned foolishly at his best friends, more securely onto his shoulder. "Shhhhhhh." Ron sobered his expression and put a finger to his lips.

Hermione was frowning at the doorknob, poking it with her wand as she leaned against the frame of the Burrow's back door. "I can't—remember—bloody—"

BANG.

The three tumbled into the kitchen, sprawled at the slippered feet of a rather irate-looking Molly Weasley, wearing a flowery robe and pointing her wand at the door, which swung shut. Arthur stood behind her, a concerned, albeit amused, expression on his face.

Hermione let out a giggle. "Hi, Mrs. Weasley," she said, wiggling her fingers up at Molly. No one would ever believe that just weeks ago, the most powerful Dark wizard who ever lived had fallen to the combined efforts of the three teenagers sniggering in a pile on Molly's kitchen floor. Hermione kicked Ron, who was currently rubbing his face against her left ankle.

"So _soft_, 'rmione—ow!" Ron cried. Then he glanced up. "Oh. Hi Mum, Dad."

Molly folded her arms and arched an eyebrow as Harry rolled over on her kitchen floor and stared at the ceiling, chuckling to himself.

"It's three o'clock," she said, her voice dangerously soft. "Where have you three been?"

Hermione was not too far-gone to participate in her favorite hobby, answering questions. "Hogsmeade," she said with a slight hiccup. Harry let out a mad laugh, then fell silent. "Meeting Neville…'n Dean…Seamus…Parvender'n'Lavati…"

Ron laughed. "Parvati," he told her, looking dreamily at her face.

"I'm—hic—Hermione," she said, frowning.

"No, nonono," Ron said, shaking his head emphatically. "You mean Parvati and Lavender."

"Oh. Right." Hermione didn't seem to be able to contain her hysterical laughter any longer and released it in a shrill giggle, falling backwards onto the kitchen floor between Harry and Ron.

"HOGWARTS REENOONIUM!" Harry bellowed suddenly to the underside of the kitchen table. "To the unfinished year!" he shouted, raising an invisible glass to the ceiling. He then appeared, quite suddenly, to pass out, snoring loudly.

Hermione stared at Harry and giggled. "Harry had a really nice time," she whispered conspiratorially to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"I can see that," said Molly, who looked as though she were having a hard time keeping her frown steady. "Be that as it may, we had no note from you, no message. We had no idea where you were, you could have been—"

"Mum," said Ron, frowning as he stumbled to his feet. "Mum, Mum, Mum."

He put his arms around Molly's neck. "We're fine," he said seriously. "We're sorry we didn't send a note."

Molly softened as she patted Ron's back, staggering a little under his weight. She looked helplessly back at Arthur, whose expression plainly said, _This is your area_. Molly sighed and rolled her eyes. "All right, all right. Get Harry up to bed," she told Ron and Hermione. "We'll talk about this in the morning."

Hermione nodded seriously and grabbed Harry's hand, dragging him out from under the kitchen table. Ron helped her hoist him up, upon which he woke and grinned at Molly and Arthur.

"Good night," Harry said congenially, doffing an invisible top hat as he allowed himself to be half-carried through the sitting room to the stairs. Molly and Arthur followed them.

"Separate beds, Hermione Granger," Molly called after them as they stumbled up the steps. Harry let out another mad laugh, and they heard Hermione giggle, but this was followed by the snap of Ginny's door closing as Hermione left the boys to climb the rest of the way up.

A few moments of scuffling passed while Harry and Ron made it all the way up to Ron's room. Then there was silence. Suddenly—

"I LOVE YOU!" roared Harry from the very top of the stairs, startling Molly and Arthur.

"Come on, you idiot," Ron muttered.

"I love you, too, Ronald," Harry said to Ron. "Separate beds!" he cried.

The door shut.

Molly dropped into her rocking chair and put a hand over her mouth, looking at Arthur as he sat down on the couch. Then, quite suddenly, she burst into hysterical giggles, laughing, as she had not done in far too long. Arthur's grin widened as he too began to snicker.

"Oh, Arthur! We really shouldn't laugh, but—" she looked up to where Harry's voice had last sounded.

Arthur removed his glasses, wiping tears from his eyes. "I never thought I'd see the day when the Chosen One would be downed by a bottle of Firewhisky."

"Which he apparently drank on his own!" Molly chuckled. She laughed again and took a deep breath. "They'll have to be punished, of course, but my goodness," she said. "That was infinitely better than any of the other boys coming in late."

Arthur nodded. "How about a de-gnoming in the morning?" he suggested.

Molly smiled impishly, feeling more lighthearted than she had in three months. "I'll hide the Pepper-Up."

* * *

><p>I do realize that technically it hasn't been a whole day...but I was dying to post this chapter. I made myself laugh so hard. If you only review once, please review this fellow! I love this one! Thanks for reading.<p>

Lucy


	6. Thicker Than A Brick Wall

29 August 1993 — Thicker Than A Brick Wall

Ron and Hermione, in what would not be the first argument of this nature, were pointedly glaring away from each other as they headed towards the brick wall that would take them back to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry walked between them, still eating his ice cream.

Crookshanks, Hermione's new pet, blinked lazily at Ron from his secure place in Hermione's arms. As Ron glared at the weird-looking cat, it licked its lips and turned its gaze to Ron's breast pocket.

"Stupid animal," Ron mumbled, feeling Scabbers shake against his chest.

"What was that?" Hermione asked sharply, snapping around to look angrily at him.

"Nothing," muttered Ron. They walked past Ollivander's and Quality Quidditch Supplies, where a shop's assistant was trying to force off the crowd of window-shoppers admiring the Firebolt on display in the window.

"We need to close!" the poor wizard cried. "We need to—aiee!" He disappeared, swallowed up by the small crowd.

"Look," Ron said, clearly forcing a more solicitous tone. "Your—_cat_—is clearly not safe to be around Scabbers. Isn't there some way you could—I dunno—take it back?"

"_His_ name is Crookshanks," said Hermione acidly, "and no, I won't take him back, that shopkeeper said that no one wanted him." Ron rolled his eyes. "Cats chase rats, Ron. You'll just have to learn to keep better track of Scabbers. Besides, it's not as though Crookshanks will be near your dormitory."

"Hermione, I'm warning you—"

"Oh, you're _warning_ me?" she asked hotly.

"If you won't get rid of that bloody cat, I swear I'll do it for you."

Hermione leveled a glare that made Harry flinch. He slowed his steps so that Ron and Hermione walked ahead of him. They stopped before the wall to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Listen, Ron," Hermione said angrily, readjusting her hold on Crookshanks, whom Ron scowled at. "Just because you're too thick to take care of your own pet doesn't mean—"

"Too thick?" Ron cried indignantly. "Too _thick_?"

"Oh please," said Hermione. "You're thicker than this brick wall." She tapped the wall with her wand, letting the archway open and marching through the back door of the pub.

Ron stood spluttering for a moment before he looked at Harry, who popped the last of his ice cream cone in his mouth, mumbled something incoherent, and clapped Ron on the shoulder before hurrying after Hermione.

* * *

><p>Ehehe. Not the funniest, but how do you follow Firewhisky? Thanks very much for reading, and I'm so glad you all got as much of a laugh out of that last chapter as I did!<p>

Love, Lucy


	7. Teddy Bear

24 May 1993 — Teddy Bear

Ron Weasley hated spiders more than anything else he could imagine. They were weird, hairy, and their movement…he shuddered involuntarily.

When he was very small, Fred had gotten angry with him for accidentally stepping on Fred's toy broomstick and breaking its handle in half. The family didn't have a lot of money, so a replacement, in all likelihood, was not in the cards.

Ron, ashamed at his clumsiness and afraid of Fred's wrath, ran and hid under his bed. But Fred quickly found Ron squeezing his teddy bear, his eyes tightly shut. Fred scowled at him and tried to reach for his little brother, but Ron scooted farther back against the wall.

"Ron!" Fred cried, becoming more distressed. "Come out here!"

Ron shook his head and clutched his bear tighter. Fred, in what would be the first piece of magic he ever performed, stomped around, trying to come up with a way to get Ron out from under the bed.

As Ron lay curled there, however, he began to notice that his bear was suddenly…rather itchy…and it wasn't very soft or fluffy anymore…he opened his eyes and screamed at the top of his lungs.

Nearly ten years later, standing outside Hagrid's house at midnight, Fang at his side, Ron gave an involuntary twitch. Harry was poking around in the pumpkin patch a few feet away, looking for evidence of spiders.

"Ron, are you helping or not?" Harry asked.

"What? Yeah," Ron said automatically, stooping to look in the grass. While in that position, he mentally shook himself.

What mattered more right now? The fact that Hogwarts was in grave danger, and that one of the most important people in his life had been taken from him, or that he was a big baby about spiders? He froze. Where had that thought come from? Hermione was his good friend, sure, but most important in his life? He told himself to calm down.

"Got one!" cried Harry, holding his lit wand tip over the ground. "Come on, Ron, hurry!"

Ron groaned. _Sure_, he thought, _follow a spider into the Forbidden Forest because Hagrid told us to_. _Sounds great_.

"Ron!" shouted Harry.

Ron started following his mind. With every step, he steeled himself. I'm doing this for Hermione. For the others. For Nearly Headless Nick.

He gulped, stopping at the very edge of the forest. Harry was not far ahead. Quickly, he imagined Hermione's face, kindly laughing as he told her the story of how he came to fear spiders.

_For my teddy_.

* * *

><p>We're getting into the sweeter stuff, now, folks! :) Hope you like it.<p> 


	8. Professor Binns

20 October 1995 — "Professor Binns is absolutely the _best_ teacher I have ever had the pleasure of knowing."

"No." Hermione scowled over her knitting needles as she worked on a fluffy blue pair of socks for the house-elves. "It's your own fault you left it this late, you'll have to do it on your own."

Ron groaned. "Hermione, History of Magic is the worst class in the world, and you know that Harry and I need all the help we can get. Just a look at your essay?"

"No, Ron," Hermione said firmly. "You're going to have to learn your lesson, I'm afraid. And I suggest you try your hand at Ancient Runes sometime, maybe then you won't feel so bad about History of Magic." And she returned her gaze to the knitting needles, glinting in the firelight.

Harry lay on the floor before his customary armchair, his face pressed into the rug. He made a sudden noise that could have been a sentence.

Ron kicked him. "Can't hear you."

"_Ron_," said Hermione admonishingly. "Don't do that!"

Harry lifted his head, squinting at his friends. "I _said_, speaking of History of Magic, any ideas as to why Umbridge hasn't inspected Binns yet?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Maybe she knows it's pointless," Ron said. "I mean, there's not much to inquire into, in a ghost? It's not as if she can fire him. Where would he go? Shack up with Myrtle in the S-bend?" Harry snorted while Hermione rolled her eyes. "Seriously," Ron added. "Where would she find a replacement? Clearly his life's—and afterlife's—ambition was to teach History of Magic."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "That could be," she said after a moment. "But I don't know, there must be a better explanation." She stared into the fire, frowning slightly, allowing her knitting to continue itself in midair.

"I've got it," Ron said suddenly. "Umbridge and Binns." Harry stared at him.

"Yeah, they're perfect for each other," Ron insisted. "Binns probably thought she was just wonderful, all about rules and never practicing magic, and Umbridge…well, it's probably been a while…"

"_Ron_!" Hermione cried, giggling. "That's horrible!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, well, so's she."

"I can see the inspection results now," said Ron, now positively crying with mirth. He put on an imitation of Umbridge's simpering voice and mimed writing in the air. "'Professor Binns is _the _best teacher I have ever had the pleasure of knowing."

"Biblically," added Hermione, not looking up from her knitting needles. Harry roared with laughter, while Ron looked a little nonplussed. "Signed, Dolores Umbridge, hugs and kisses.'"

* * *

><p>Thank you all SO MUCH for the support, I really hope you all are having fun. Thanks for the fantastic reviews! Today's post is a little early because I have to be volunteering somewhere, but I'll be back tomorrow!<p>

Lucy


	9. Professor McGonagall

25 October 1994— "No, Professor McGonagall, I will _not_ marry you."

"How _cool_ would it be if we could enter?" Ron moaned for the thousandth time, staring longingly into the entrance hall. Hermione rolled her eyes. They could just see the Goblet of Fire from the Gryffindor table, surrounded by Dumbledore's Age Line.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, staring over at the Ravenclaw table. He wasn't looking when Ron accidentally upset the tureen of porridge as he craned to get a better look at the goblet.

Porridge spilled everywhere, flooding between plates, cups, and serving dishes. Several first-year girls squealed and jumped to their feet as the cereal dripped over the edge. Hermione snatched up her books and glared at Ron, who was attempting to stem the flow with his hands, but failing miserably.

"Ronald, honestly, sometimes I can't believe you ever made it out of the second year," snapped Hermione angrily, flicking cereal off the front of her robes.

Ron lifted his eyebrows. "Well _that_ was _terribly _sweet of you…but no, Professor McGonagall, I'm afraid I cannot marry you." Harry snickered, not noticing the look on Hermione's face.

Ron, however, followed her gaze over his shoulder. Minerva McGonagall, drawn up to her full height and bearing an armful of books, glared beadily at him.

Ron gulped and managed a weak smile. Professor McGonagall sniffed.

"I shall see you three in class," she said, turning away and marching down the rest of the Gryffindor table.

Ron turned back to the table, his eyes wide and horrified. Hermione laughed.

* * *

><p>Feeling amazing, and you guys get the benefits. Some justice for the 2900.<p>

Love to everyone,

Lucy


	10. Imperius Curse

10 July 1999 — Imperius Curse

Antonin Dolohov and Bellatrix Lestrange moved closer in to Hermione and Ron, who stood back to back at the top of the staircase in the Hogwarts entrance hall. The Death Eaters' wands were drawn; Bellatrix's eyes were wide, unblinking, and hungry. Dolohov smirked, drawing nearer to Ron.

"Ready to say goodbye, brats?" Bellatrix hissed, and Hermione felt herself flinch. Bellatrix laughed aloud. "Cowards!" she shrieked. "Worthless, stinking, blood traitor and his Mudblood _whore_!"

Dolohov laughed softly. The sound chilled Hermione to her very core. "Ron," she whispered desperately, grabbing his wrist. _Where was the rest of the DA_? They were supposed to have backup. "Ron, come on—the count of three—"

Ron didn't answer, so Hermione chanced a glance over her shoulder. Instead of standing beside her, defending her, Ron had his wand pointed at Hermione, a glassy look in his eyes.

"Ron," Hermione said softly, her eyes filling with tears. "Please, no, please. Ron, this isn't you, fight it, _please_!"

As she screamed the last word, Ron's jet of green light hit her fully in the face, and Hermione Granger crumpled, her body sliding down the same stone steps that she had once scurried up, a young witch eager to explore the magical world she had found.

Ron sat bolt upright in bed, at the same time startling Hermione awake. He was covered in a cold sweat and he buried his face in his hands. He felt Hermione's arms go around him. The small room in Grimmauld Place was lit with the bluish gray of early morning as Ron looked into her eyes.

"The same dream?" she asked softly. He nodded, blinking back tears.

Hermione pulled him close. "Okay," she whispered. "I'm here, all right? I'm here, and I'm safe. We're not going to be separated by anything, right?"

Ron nodded, kissing the top of her head. "I love you, Hermione," he told her.

"I love you too," she answered, giving him a squeeze.

"I don't know what I'd do if—if—"

"Ron," Hermione said seriously, looking up at him. "Don't you know that you can't have the Imperius Curse put on you more than once at a time?"

Ron looked nonplussed. "What?"

"How _else_ do you think you fell in love with me?" Hermione laughed, snuggling closer.

Ron smiled. The terror of his dream dissipated as he and Hermione lay in each other's arms. He was far, far away from the old nightmare now; now he could be sure that he would always protect Hermione.

And Hermione, well…Hermione would always protect him, from spells and nightmares alike.

* * *

><p>*FAIR WARNING ZONE* I am fairly certain that this is as serious as I got, but we're getting into the sweet-with-traces-of-humor zone now. Hope you like :)<p>

Lucy


	11. Saint Nick

8 March 1997 — Saint Nick

Hermione sniffled as she trudged slowly back to Gryffindor Tower, completely alone. It was after curfew, but she hadn't noticed. She had spent all afternoon in the hospital wing, seated between Ron and Harry's beds. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she leave her friends when visiting hours ended, though Harry had not yet woken up. From there, Hermione had wandered to the library, only to be ousted once again by Madam Pince. After that, she had taken to wandering aimlessly about the corridors, unaware of the lateness of the hour.

Hermione and Ron had sat together for a long time in the hospital, playing Exploding Snap, but not talking much. There was still a thin layer of awkwardness between them, though Hermione was coming to forgive Ron for his…indiscretions. And Ron, well, he was just glad to have Hermione back. They each tried to show how glad they were to be _friends_ once again.

Just. Friends.

Hermione sighed, knowing that her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She hadn't even known why she was crying, but as soon as she'd said goodbye to Ron and patted Harry's hand as she had left, she had been overwhelmed with tears. She wasn't hungry or tired, so she went to the library and tried to work. That became an extended perusal of all the shelves crammed with books, and she never really sat down to do her Rune translations.

All she could think about was the things she should have, but hadn't said to Ron. Hermione felt fresh tears spring to her eyes, feeling foolish.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up, startled. "Oh," she said. "Hello, Nick."

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington floated before her. Had he not said her name, Hermione would have walked right through him.

"Hermione, are you all right?" the ghost asked, looking concerned.

Hermione wiped her cheeks. "Of course, I'm fine," she said, briefly smiling at him. "I was just going back to the tower."

"My dear, it's well after nine o'clock," Nick told her. "If Mr. Filch should catch you, you could be in very serious trouble."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Is it really? I had no idea! Oh dear, I'd better hurry—"

"Who's there?" a voice growled from the far end of the corridor.

"Too late," Nick said. "Quickly, follow me!" Hermione trotted after him into the classroom he led her to. "Stay quiet," he told her as she pulled the door shut. After a few moments of silence, Hermione pressed her ear to the wood, listening.

"Mr. Filch," Nick's voice said.

"Who else is here?" Filch asked gruffly. "I heard someone else."

"I haven't seen anyone," Nick said politely. "Perhaps it was one of the portraits?"

"It wasn't no portrait," Filch growled. "There are students out of bed. You've seen them."

"I haven't seen anyone," Nick repeated, slightly more forcefully.

"What about in the classroom?"

"_This_ classroom?"

Hermione held her breath, terrified, wishing for a miracle.

There was the distant sound of a crash. "Peeves!" Filch shouted. "I'll get you, I swear!"

Hermione closed her eyes in relief as she heard Mr. Filch hurrying away. After a few moments of silence, Nick spoke.

"It's all right, Hermione. Come out."

Hermione quietly opened the door and looked at Nick. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I didn't do a thing," Nick smiled. "I believe Peeves was just on our side for once, if only unintentionally."

"Thank you anyway." Hermione smiled a little and turned to leave.

Nick stopped her: "Hermione." She turned. "I know things haven't been easy lately," he told her kindly. Hermione stared at the floor, feeling more tears building. "You're a good girl, and an amazingly gifted witch. Mr. Weasley will be just fine. He has you."

Hermione managed a watery smile, her eyes full of tears.

"You'd better get upstairs," Nick said, patting Hermione's arm. "Oh—sorry," he added, seeing her shiver.

"It's all right," Hermione said. "I'll get going. Thanks again. You're a saint, Nick."

"Of course, my dear."

* * *

><p>Because yes, I *am* up at four-thirty-four...five in the morning, because yes, I *should* be writing the ten pager due in seven hours and twenty-six...five...minutes, and most importantly because YES, I do so love you all this much. Someone really amazing that I haven't written back to yet (sorry, I can't remember who it was!) said, "can you even write a bad chapter?" in their review. I just wanted to let you ALL know that hearing how happy you guys are shoots me off over the moon. I checked my email at one point today and had about half a dozen reviews, and I started crying because you were all loving this story. So thank you all-you'll be getting personal notes as soon as this damn paper's done, and I'm so glad you like it. A few of you have also given me suggestions for future projects...if you have anything like that that you might like to see me try, or you'd like my help with a project, don't hesitate to drop me a line. I'll be there. Thank you for your support, and long live the memories of Remus, Tonks, Freddy, Colin, and the fallen fifty of Hogwarts.<p>

Lucy


	12. Pumpkin Juice

10 May 2007 — Pumpkin Juice

The adult members of the Weasley-Potter family were all crammed into the sitting room of the Burrow, recovering from a family birthday party for Albus and Victoire.

Harry, Ron, Fleur, and Charlie sat huddled at the table in the corner, playing tag-team wizard's chess. Hermione, Ginny, Audrey and Angelina occupied the sofa, slumped against one another with their eyes only half open. George was stretched on the floor at their feet, apparently asleep. Arthur sat in his armchair, and Molly was in her rocker with seven-year-old Victoire curled in her arms. Percy sat on the hearth, lazily discussing the latest Ministry happenings with his father.

Noticing that her daughter was at long last sleeping, Fleur got up quietly to take her from Molly, who smiled and planted a kiss on the little girl's head. Fleur carried Victoire up the stairs to Ginny's old bedroom, where Teddy and her seven cousins were already asleep.

Bill cleared his throat loudly as he came in from the kitchen; sleepily startled, everyone looked around at him. He was carrying a tray full of glasses and two bottles.

"I just wanted to propose a toast," he said, laying the platter on the tiny table next to the couch and pouring the firewhisky.

Fleur returned down the stairs and accepted a glass from Bill, whom she wrapped an arm around. Bill passed the glasses around to everyone except Angelina and Ginny, for whom he poured pumpkin juice. Angelina and George had just announced their second pregnancy a few weeks ago; Ginny was nearly five months along already, and showing conspicuously.

Hermione, however, stopped Bill as he tried to hand her the firewhisky.

"Pumpkin juice for me too, please, Bill," she said gently.

"I—what?" Bill looked surprised. Then he laughed and said, "Had enough already, Granger?"

Hermione smiled. "No, not exactly." She looked meaningfully over at Ron, who cleared his throat.

"Erm—me and Hermione—well, Hermione—we're going to have another baby," Ron said very quickly. He looked down into his glass rather sheepishly.

Joyous cries erupted all around them. Molly immediately leapt to her feet and kissed both of them, looking positively gleeful.

"Some sense of timing you three have got," Charlie said, grinning at Harry and Ron and pelting George with a twisted-up bit of a paper napkin.

Angelina swatted Hermione's shoulder playfully. "Why didn't you tell us? You've been letting me and Ginny be all by ourselves over here!"

"When's the baby due, Hermione?" Audrey asked, her eyes full of longing. She and Percy had been trying unsuccessfully for nearly six years to have a child.

"Actually, right around the same time as yours, Ginny," Hermione said, feeling tears come to her eyes at the overflow of emotion. "Mid-October, we think."

"Do you mean to say you're four months in and you _just_ found out?" Angelina looked jealous. "Lucky witch."

Hermione laughed, avoiding answering the question. She was saved from more interrogation by Bill, who handed her a glass of juice and raised his own drink.

"I'd just like to say that—well, we've got a pretty amazing family. It hasn't always been easy, but we'll always have each other, and those wonderful kids up there, plus the _three_," Bill looked at Hermione, who turned pink, "who are on their way." Bill looked around, an awkward smile on his face. "Now that I'm done being embarrassing, drink so you'll forget it."

Everyone laughed and said, "Cheers!" before downing their drinks.

Slowly, they all quieted, and one by one everyone said good night. When Percy and Audrey disappeared into the flash of fire as they Flooed back to their flat, and Harry and Ginny stumbled up the stairs to bed, too tired to pack up the children and go home, Molly and Hermione sat alone in the parlor. Arthur and Ron had taken over the chessboard and were playing in the corner.

"October, hm?" Molly asked with a wide smile, settling onto the sofa next to Hermione.

"Around then," said Hermione, tucking her leg beneath her to face Molly.

"Did you really just find out, dear?" Molly asked. "It must have been quite a surprise." She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Not unlike your husband, as a matter of fact."

Hermione glanced away from Molly, fiddling with the sofa. She opened her mouth and looked over at Ron. He frowned slightly, and Hermione nodded.

"We've known for almost three months," Hermione said. Arthur looked up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "We wanted to wait because…well…" she looked away, feeling tears sting her eyes.

Ron stared at the chessboard and said in a subdued voice, "We got pregnant not that long ago. September, when Rosie was just a few months old. But—"

"Oh, Ron," Molly said, her expression pained. "Hermione, I'm so sorry, sweetheart." She leaned forward and wrapped Hermione in a gentle hug, which Hermione returned with a great sense of relief.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said quietly, laying a hand on Ron's arm, which lay on the table. Ron nodded, not meeting his father's gaze.

Hermione took a deep breath and sat back, smiling them all as she wiped a tear from her cheek. "It's going to be all right though. We went to St. Mungo's today, and everything looks great. The baby's very healthy." She laid both her hands on her stomach, the curve of which showed only slightly.

Molly smiled, squeezing her hand. "That's wonderful, dear," she said.

"Yeah," said Ron, a smile spreading across his face as he looked at Hermione, who blushed as she met his gaze. "It's really wonderful."

* * *

><p>Big shout-out the Isob3l, who is the amazingly kind reviewer whose name I forgot yesterday. Everyone reading and reviewing, you should all know what awesome people you are. I'm lucky to have your support, and I hope you like this chapter as well. Thank you.<p>

Lucy


	13. Giant Squid

24 February 2005 — Giant Squid

"Ron, _no_," Hermione whispered, pushing his hands away from her middle as he tried to kiss her neck. "We're at work!" She walked away from him, sliding a sheaf of parchment into the purple filing cabinets in the Ministry's empty Hall of Records.

"I'm not at work, I'm off-duty," Ron said mischievously, catching her waist again as she walked by. She slapped his hand, but he grinned and pulled her close. "I'm just here to turn in a report to Kingsley."

"Ronald Bilius—" Hermione's protest was stifled by Ron's mouth. She involuntarily placed her hand in his hair before quickly recovering herself. Their families still teased them about being in their honeymoon phase, though many could argue that they'd been "honeymooning" for seven years; they'd been married for just about two months.

"No!" she hissed. "Not here!"

"Just a quick snog?" Ron asked, putting on his puppy face. "I haven't seen you in _days_ because of this stupid investigation." He sat back on a table, allowing Hermione to come closer to him.

She laid her arms around his neck and lowered her eyelids, swaying seductively as she brought her face near enough to touch their noses together.

"Tonight, Ronald." Hermione flounced away, picking up a few more pieces of parchment and studying them nonchalantly.

Ron groaned. "Fine," he said, looking disappointed. "What time'll you be home?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Hermione airily, deliberately not looking at him. "We'll see."

Ron smiled devilishly, quickly reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. He kissed her, and she smiled up at him.

"I'll see you tonight," Ron said. He released Hermione, and she stood, straightening her robes.

"Honestly," she said, with feigned huffiness. "More tentacles than the giant squid." She pecked her husband on the cheek as he stood and started to leave.

"You married me," Ron said, his back to her as he started to leave the hall. He started suddenly when something smacked his rear. He spun around quickly, but Hermione was not looking at him as she shuffled her papers. Ron grinned to himself.

"Heh…giant squid…"

* * *

><p>These two...honestly...such sillies. :) Thanks for all the support, I'm glad you're enjoying!<p>

Lucy


	14. The Fat Lady

1 October 2007 — The Fat Lady

"I'm hideous," Hermione said, looking dejectedly at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Ron stuck his head out of the bathroom.

"Huh?"

"I—oh, look at me!" Hermione cried in distress. She turned to the side. "I can't even see my whole body in this stupid mirror!" She smoothed her pale pink dress slightly over her massive belly. She was due to give birth to their second child almost any day now. "This is awful, I look like the Fat Lady." Her eyes filled with tears and she whimpered, turning to face front.

She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled roughly in irritation. "Maybe a different dress—"

"Hrrmynee," said Ron. He came out of the bathroom, his toothbrush sticking out of the corner of his mouth, and laid his arms on his wife's shoulders. "You 'ook yooyufull," he said, spraying a bit of toothpaste on Hermione, who flinched.

"Oopsh, shorry," Ron said. He held up a finger and retreated to the bathroom. "One shecond."

Hermione smiled slightly and nodded, wiping the droplets from her cheek. Ron reappeared, toothbrush-free.

"Now," he said, resuming his hold on Hermione's arms. They sat down together at the end of their bed. "It's just me, Rosie, and your parents tonight, and let me tell you a secret." Ron came closer, wrapping his arms around Hermione and placing his mouth near her ear. "We all think you're gorgeous already. Right, Ro? Doesn't Mum look pretty?"

"Pitty Mumma," said fifteen-month-old Rose, who stood in her playpen, a big grin on her face as she stuffed one chubby fist in her mouth. Hermione laughed as Ron got up and picked up his daughter, carrying her over to Hermione. He plopped Rose in his lap, and Hermione straightened her daughter's dress, smiling.

Rosie leaned forward and rubbed Hermione's belly. "Pitty Mumma," she said again. "Yoo-go. Yoooo-go." Her smile grew wider and she clapped her hands.

Hermione and Ron laughed.

"That's right, Ro," Ron said, cuddling his daughter. "Hugo."

Rosie looked around at him, looking inquisitive, her hand still on Hermione. "Brudder?"

"Yeah, your brother," Ron told her.

Rose laughed as she made the connection and held her hands out to Hermione. "Pitty Yoo-go Mumma!" she cried joyously.

Hermione smiled. "All right, all right. You win," she said, leaning over to her daughter. "You win!" She rubbed her nose against Rosie's. The baby squealed and giggled.

"Silly Mumma!"

"Your mum's so silly," Ron said. He leaned in and kissed Hermione, who smiled. "And very beautiful," he added.

"Eeeee!" Rosie squeaked from between her parents. "Squish!"

Ron sat back. "Sorry, sweetie, you're just so squishy!" He tickled Rose, who shrieked with delight. He picked her up again and placed her back in the playpen so that he could finish getting ready.

Hermione leaned back on her elbows, smiling at Ron. He bent over and kissed her. "See, you pay me to tell you you're beautiful, but how can you argue with Rosie? I mean, even if you did try to pay her, she'd just eat the money." They looked over at their daughter, who had placed the head of her stuffed rabbit in her mouth and was sucking on it serenely.

Ron sighed. "Kid takes after me," he said, sounding immensely proud. Hermione laughed, and Ron looked at her. "You're beautiful. And having this baby makes you even more beautiful. And I will never, ever tell you anything different, Hermione. You're no Fat Lady."

Hermione kissed him. "Thank you," she said softly. "I needed that."

Ron nodded and straightened, striding over to the bathroom door.

"Ron?"

He turned.

"I need one more thing," Hermione said, looking at him with wide eyes and a playful smile. "Help me up?"

* * *

><p>So I'm a little confused as to what time or day it is. I'm under the impression that I uploaded a chapter sometime during the all-nighter I pulled, but I really have no clue. My solution? DOUBLE POST! This is actually one of my favorite chapters. I love this li'l girl! How cute is she? Such a little muffin. Anywho. Hope you like this. I'm off to sleep. :)<p>

Lucy


	15. Banana

18 August 2004 — Banana

Hermione wandered out of the bedroom in hers and Ron's flat nearly half an hour after Ron had already sat down at the breakfast table. She frowned, dropping into a seat opposite her boyfriend, who had a bowl of soggy, uneaten cereal before him. He had sliced half a banana into his cereal as well. The other half, still in its peel, sat on the table.

"Hi," Hermione said cautiously, already on her guard. Ron was acting bizarrely, grinning at her and humming a Celestina Warbeck ballad in double time.

"Hi," Ron said. "Want something to eat?" He got to his feet and began opening cupboards at random.

"Er—"

"We've got eggs, cereal, milk, more fruit—"

"Ron." Hermione stopped his nervous chattering, feeling that she was not fully awake enough to hear the answer to this question, but she asked it anyway. "What have you done?"

Ron froze. "I—what? N-nothing."

"Nothing," Hermione repeated, raising an eyebrow. She folded her arms.

"No, really," Ron said, sitting back down.

"Why are you so twitchy, then? Did you have another nightmare?" A horrible thought dawned on Hermione. "Has George been testing more products on you?"

"No," Ron insisted. "I just…I wanted to do something nice for you. Because you're really important to me, and…" he trailed off, staring at the table. "Look, can I just get you something to eat?" He sounded almost distraught.

Hermione looked worried. "Are you all right, Ron?" she asked. "You're making me nervous."

"Yeah, I'm all right," Ron said, not meeting her gaze.

"Look, here, I'll eat the rest of this banana, okay?" Hermione said, reaching for it. Ron caught her wrist. "What—?"

Ron took a deep breath and looked into Hermione's eyes. Then he lifted back the banana peel. There, lying among the split peel, was a small golden band with tiny, sparkling stone set in it. Hermione gasped.

"Ron—"

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I had a whole plan, but then that felt stupid, so I decided to be spontaneous, and then I couldn't remember what I wanted to say, and you were coming out here and I had to put it somewhere—"

"Ron!" Hermione cried, her eyes bright with happy tears. "_Yes_."

"What?" Ron stared at her, looking confused.

Hermione laughed. "Yes, you maniac. Merlin's pants," she said, tears filling her eyes. "I thought you were never going to ask me. Of course I'll marry you."

Ron stared at her for another long moment, looking as though he had quite forgotten how to speak or understand English. Then his face broke into a wide, goofy grin. "Yeah?"

Hermione laughed again, moving around the table to sit in his lap. She kissed him and looked deep into his eyes, holding his face in her hands. "I can't imagine a better way to spend the rest of my life," she told him softly. She reached for the ring, still sitting in the banana peel.

Ron took it from her and slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. They touched their heads together and Hermione held her arm out before her so they could admire the effect.

"It's beautiful, Ron," Hermione told him, kissing his cheek.

Ron sighed and nodded. "You're better."

* * *

><p>The beginning for the end! This chapter is the last one from the "Halls of Hogwarts Challenge." HOWEVER! Do not despair, I have many more ideas, and due to some extremely popular demand, more updates will be forthcoming. I think what I'm going to tell you is I'm going on a hiatus until I get about ten or so chapters (won't be long, a couple of weeks max), and then I'll be back! <strong>SEND ME ANY CHAPTER IDEAS YOU HAVE.<strong> SO many people I have to thank: Analie209, banzi, fanohermione, harrypotterluver123, Hermione's Harmony, HPsibunaSara, Isob3l, Little Miss Science Nerd, london75, Lotta Devon, luminique, LVB, melissaeverlasting, mermaidgirl45, McAbbyGirl4Life, obsessiveHPotterfan, pcamargo-brasil13, Raven Starhawk, rhr4everhr, sugarfree25, ThatSuperHotSexyBookworm, whispered touches, yadeniky, and xXSexgoddessXx (THANKS FOR THE CHALLENGE! This one's all down to you), plus everyone who favorite-ed. You guys gave me so much support, and I can't tell you how grateful I am.

You guys are literally the best readers a person could ask for. To everyone else who added this to Story Alert and has been following along, thank you all so much as well! I'm so glad that I've been able to entertain you for a couple of weeks. It makes me happier than I can express to make you happy. I'm going to do a shameless little plug now. I'm working on a big multi-chap challenge piece involving the replaying of the Triwizard Tournament thirty years after Harry's. I would absolutely love it if you all came on board for that one. My hope is that you'll like it as much as you liked this.

Thanks for reading, and for sharing your love with me,

Your Dear Professor McGonagall,

Lucy


	16. Blue

1 September 1991—Blue (story suggested by Little Miss Science Nerd)

Hermione Jean Granger sat in the train compartment by herself, beating her legs against her seat. She had already changed into her Hogwarts robes as the train left the station, but now, almost an hour into the journey she realized that no one else had, and felt a little foolish.

She considered pulling out one of the books her parents had bought for her, but then decided against it. She didn't want someone who would be in her class to see her. She couldn't be the girl that reads all the time. Not again.

Hermione got up and slid open her compartment door, sticking her head out to glance up and down the narrow corridor. As she did so, a boy a year or two older than her hurtled past, almost smacking her in the face, closely chased by two friends.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the immature behavior and retreated back into her compartment to sit down again. She was now positively itching to continue reading _A History of Magic_, and, stealing a glance over her shoulder, stood on the seat and popped open her trunk to find it.

"Er—excuse me?" said a voice right behind her. Hermione almost toppled off the seat and looked around. A round-faced boy who looked extremely anxious stood in the doorway of her compartment. Hermione quickly closed her trunk and climbed down, seating herself and crossing her legs neatly.

"Can I help you?" she asked, sitting up very straight with her head very high. The boy cleared his throat.

"You, uh, haven't seen a toad, have you?" he asked, turning pink.

"A toad?" Hermione asked. She arched an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I haven't." She turned her gaze out the window, trying to appear nonchalant and cool.

"Oh," the boy said. "Sorry. Well, if you do see him, my name's Neville. Neville Longbottom." He held out a chubby hand, a smile on his face. Hermione smiled a little and stood.

"Hermione Granger," she said, shaking his hand. "What's your toad called?"

"Trevor," Neville said. "My Great-Uncle Algie just bought him for my birthday. I'll feel horrible if I've lost him," he added, sounding distressed.

Hermione felt very sorry for Neville, who had hung his head slightly. "Come on, Neville," she said. "I'll help you find Trevor. I was always in charge of glue sticks and supplies at school—I'm great at finding things!" _That was intelligent_, she thought, mentally kicking herself.

Neville looked at her in wonder. Hermione bit her lip—_wizards probably don't have glue sticks, you idiot_, she thought, _he must think you're mad!_

Then Neville's face broke into a wide grin. "Really? Thanks Her—Hemeye—"

Hermione sighed, trying not to appear too disappointed. "Her-my-oh-nee," she said slowly and clearly.

"Right," Neville nodded. "Hermione."

They began to search the train, starting from Hermione's compartment. Neville would duck into the boys bathrooms while Hermione asked passing students if they'd seen the fugitive amphibian, and then Hermione would look in the girls' rooms while Neville stood in the corridor and tried to pluck up the nerve to talk to the older students.

They had had no luck, nearly reaching the end of the last car, when Hermione heard a boy's voice.

"Fred gave me a spell to turn him yellow, want to see?"

"Yeah!" said another voice. Hermione scowled. She _knew_ they weren't supposed to use magic on the train. She reached for the door, about to tell them off, when she checked herself. How much more could she take of being the teacher's pet? Wasn't going to Hogwarts supposed to be about reinventing herself?

Hermione tried to make herself excited to see a real piece of magic, and enjoy the rule-breaking, and slid open the door. Two boys sat in the compartment, and Hermione guessed that they were about the same age as she. One was very small and terribly skinny, wearing round spectacles and baggy Muggle clothing that could have belonged to a heavy teenager. She wondered if his parents just let him wear those clothes. A pile of sweets sat beside him. _Her_ parents would never have let her eat so much candy.

The other boy was taller, with bright red hair and a look of intense concentration on his face. His clothes fit him, but they looked a little old—most likely hand-me-downs. He held a fat brown rat in his left hand, a worn-looking wand in his right. Hermione rolled her eyes. Rats were most certainly not on the list of approved pets for Hogwarts. She cleared her throat, and the red-haired boy looked up at her. He had very sharp, bright blue eyes.

Hermione paused for a moment, feeling her neck and ears grow hot from his gaze. There was something very unnerving about that look—she wasn't sure if she was afraid of him or annoyed by him. Then she broke eye contact and found the dark-haired boy's face instead. "Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one."

* * *

><p>AND THE WITCH IS BACK, LADIES AND GENTLEFOLK! Shoutout to LMSN for the chapter suggestion, and as always, if you have any ideas for a chapter you'd like to see, do let me know.<p>

Lucy


	17. Amortentia II

2 September 1996—Amortentia II (Little Miss Science Nerd, ?)

Professor Slughorn gestured to the cauldron on the table before his sixth-year students. Before he could finish asking them what the contents were, Hermione's hand shot into the air.

"It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognized, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell different to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment, and—"

But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence. She would rather melt into the floor and never be seen again than finish her sentence. She was incredibly startled and unnerved to find that she'd nearly confessed the scent she had recognized, hidden just below the others.

It was earthy and rich—like a freshly planted garden after a rainstorm, and it filled her brain and clogged her senses and thoughts. Hermione had never felt disinterested in a class before, but all she wanted to do now was stand in front of that cauldron all day and inhale that smell.

She had to mentally shake herself when she realized that Professor Slughorn had asked her a question.

"Granger, sir," she said softly. Then she shook her head. "Hermione Granger."

Hermione stole a glance to her left, where Ron stood, his brow furrowed as he stared at the tabletop. She took a deep breath and returned her gaze to the front.

* * *

><p>I *think* two people suggested this one, LMSN and someone else. I can't recall who, so if you are that kind soul, let me know! Thanks for the welcome-backs! Hope you like.<p>

Lucy


	18. Firewhisky II

25 August 1998—Firewhisky II (banzi)

"Harry, I swear, if you don't get the hell off of me right now, I'll hex you so hard you won't walk straight for a week," Ron growled.

Harry blearily opened his eyes. Everything was spinning and blurry, despite the fact that he seemed to have fallen asleep with his glasses on. He swallowed. His mouth tasted horrible and dry—clearly he'd been sleeping with his mouth open. He looked over to where Ron's voice had come from and was startled to see his best friend's face just inches from his own.

Harry jumped and rolled away from Ron, yanking the sheets in a tangle, finally rolling off the edge of the bed, across his customary cot, and landing hard on the carpeted floor.

"Comfy?" Ron asked grouchily. Harry turned over to face the ceiling, feeling sick. He seemed to have either rolled into Ron's bed sometime during the night, or he had passed out in his best friend's small twin bed. He hoped it was the former.

Slowly, Harry began to recall the events of the previous night. Seamus, Dean, Neville, Parvati, and Lavender had all agreed to meet him, Ron, and Hermione at the Hog's Head as a sort of reunion before Neville, Dean, and the girls went back to Hogwarts. Harry and Ron were beginning their Auror training, and Seamus was taking an extended vacation with Katie Bell.

They'd only wanted to get together—their class, one of the smallest in both their year and in Gryffindor House, had always been close. There had been firewhisky. A lot of firewhisky.

"Unnnghh," Harry moaned, crushing his hands against his face. He heard movement in the bed and clumsily pulled himself up on the cot to look at Ron, only to be nearly decapitated as Ron leapt over him, jerked open the door, and ran for the bathroom.

Half an hour later, Harry and Ron stumbled downstairs, dragging their feet as they made their way into the kitchen of the Burrow. Ginny was sitting at the far end of the table, reading the_ Daily Prophet_ with a huge smirk on her face, but she didn't look at her brother or her boyfriend as they staggered in. Hermione sat at Ginny's left, head cradled in her hands, eyes shut. She looked distinctly disheveled. Her hair was bushier than Harry had seen it since second year. Ron sat down beside her, Harry on Ginny's other side, and the boys mimicked Hermione's posture.

Ginny glanced at her mother and grinned. Molly looked at the three of them slumped at the breakfast table, and proceeded to yank out some pots and pans with what Harry felt was a wholly unnecessary amount of noise. Then she swept over to the table.

"Good morning, you three," Molly trilled, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and rocking him gently back and forth. "How are we feeling? Busy night, no?" She moved around the table and patted Hermione's shoulder before returning to the kitchen counter.

Hermione looked up at her, for all the world wearing an expression of someone who had been told that the sun would never shine again. Ron groaned and buried his head further into his arms. Harry appeared to be passed out again, his nose pressed against the tabletop. Ginny gave a silent laugh and patted the back of his head.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked as Molly turned away and began loudly shuffling pots and pans again. "You wouldn't have any Pepper-Up Potion, would you?"

"You know, dear, I think we might be fresh out," said Molly thoughtfully. Hermione stared at her, aghast. Molly turned to look out the kitchen window and clucked her tongue. "Those gnomes have infested the garden again…"

She came over and tousled Ron's hair, at which he groaned. "Oh, honestly, look at you all! I think a de-gnoming is just what you three need. Fresh air is better than any potion!" Molly said cheerfully. "Up you get! Go on! Lots of food when you come back!"

This appeared to be too much for Ginny, who, fighting to keep a straight face, took her plate over to the kitchen sink and washed it, facing away from the others. Ron stumbled to his feet, his expression appropriate to one whose childhood pet had just died. Hermione followed suit, holding onto his arm tightly, as she seemed determined not to open her eyes until it was absolutely necessary. Harry began to weep silently into the woodwork.

* * *

><p>This one was banzi's idea...Harry's based on my roommate in this scene...I'll let you imagine that. ONCE AGAIN! You guys are really the best audience anyone could ask for. I've been getting so many reviews! You all are so kind, and I'm very happy to have your input. Remember, if you have an idea you'd like to see, send it to me! :)<p>

Lucy


	19. Pinky Toe

15 July 2012—Pinky Toe (whispered touches)

"Nooooo, Mummy, nooo!" Hugo cried, crying and cradling his foot. He was perched on the bathroom sink, his face bright red and screwed up from crying. The four-year-old had taken a tumble running around in the yard with his older sister, who currently stood beside her mother, an expression of deep concern on her face. Hugo's little toe on his left foot appeared to be broken.

It was not an immensely complicated repair, one that Hermione could handle in her sleep, but little Hugo was in a phase that sent him into an absolute panic when it came to pain—he did not like the idea of having someone fix his injury any more than he liked having the broken toe in the first place.

"Hugo, sweetheart," Hermione said patiently. "Let Mummy see. It hurts, doesn't it?" she asked. Hugo nodded, his brown eyes full of tears. "Then let Mummy fix it, I promise it won't hurt you anymore," Hermione told him, gently trying to prize her son's chubby fingers away from his foot.

Hugo was having none of it. "NOOOOOOOO!" he screeched, looking at his mother in abject horror. Hermione straightened up, exasperated but trying not to show it. This was not how she imagined the first few days of her vacation. The children were supposed to be bathed, packed, and ready to go on a family holiday to France by the time Ron got home that evening.

Hermione bent again, wiping away Hugo's tears. Rosie watched her little brother, fingers in her mouth, looking intensely worried.

"Hugo," Hermione said. "You have to let Mummy—"

"No!" Hugo cried again.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Ron's voice echoed downstairs.

"Daddy!" Rose cried, flying past Hermione. Hugo relaxed slightly and allowed himself to be picked up by his mother, who carried him to the upper landing.

"Hi, Rosie," Ron said. Rose shrieked with laughter as Ron swung her high into the air and kissed her cheek. Then he looked up the stairs to Hermione's frustrated scowl and Hugo's tearstained face. He pressed his mouth against Rosie's ear. "What've I done this time?" he asked.

Rosie giggled and cupped a hand around her mouth. "Hugo's got a broken toe, and he won't let Mummy fix it." Ron frowned and looked at his daughter.

"That doesn't sound like our Hugo," he told her, starting to ascend the stairs, Rosie hanging from his hand. "Why, just last week, Hugo was capturing dragons in the garden with you, wasn't he, Ro?"

Rosie nodded. Hermione's expression began to clear. Hugo hiccupped in her arms, tears no longer pouring down his cheeks.

"We fought a mack-ti-nore too!" Rosie cried. "Right, Hugo?" Hugo nodded.

"A manticore, Hugo? Did you really?" Hermione asked, adjusting Hugo's position on her hip. The little boy nodded, leaning against her shoulder.

"But that's so brave!" Ron cried in a tone of awe and reverence. He looked at both his children. "Did you know that your mum and I have never even _seen_ a manticore? They're so scary!" He gave a great, fake shudder.

"They're really nice when you tame them, though!" Hugo piped up.

Ron clapped a hand to his forehead. "You _tamed_ a manticore? Hugo, you're the bravest boy I've ever met! We need to get you an Order of Merlin!"

Hugo turned red. "Rosie helped," he said. "She was really brave too." Rose beamed.

"An Order of Merlin for Rosie, too," Ron said, swinging his daughter up into his arms.

Hermione kissed the top of Hugo's head. "I don't know," she said slowly, sharing a knowing look with Ron. "I think Hugo might have to show us just one more time how brave he can be."

Ron bit his lip, looking thoughtful. "That's true," he said, frowning. "Hey, I've got it! Hugo, why don't you let Mum fix up your toe? That'll be so brave, Kingsley will want to bring you a medal himself!"

Hugo's eyes lit up at the prospect of seeing his favorite adoptive uncle. He turned and looked seriously at Hermione.

"All right, Mummy." He furrowed his brow into a determined grimace. "I'm ready."

"Okay, let's go!" Hermione cheered, for her son's benefit. Hugo puffed himself up, looking immensely proud with his decision. Hermione gently hefted her son higher onto her hip and turned to go up the stairs. She looked back at Ron, who still held Rosie, and kissed him.

"Thank you," she mouthed. Ron grinned at her.

* * *

><p>Thanks to whispered touches for the prompt! I had fun with this one. Hugo and Rosie are such little cuties. :) Thank you all for your continued support! Any ideas, send them along!<p>

Lucy


	20. Hospital Wing

22 June 1996—Hospital Wing

Waking up felt like rising up from the bottom of a deep, dark well. As she floated higher and higher, towards the surface, she became aware of something new. First was sound, muffled, but still too sharp on her ears, and she understood nothing.

"Any better, Weasley?"

"A bit, ma'am, thank you."

"I'll be back with more in an hour. Try to sleep."

"Has Her—"

"Not yet, dear. Get some rest."

Next came the sensation that she was real, a person with weight and feeling. Not too long after that came pain, and a lot of it. That forced her eyes open, and a bright light pouring in from above her head immediately startled her. Her eyes watered and she blinked, trying to take a deep breath.

Fire burned through her chest and Hermione gave an involuntary whimper. She shut her eyes held her breath, waiting for the pain to subside, then slowly opened her eyes again. She realized that the light was coming in from a high, arched window directly behind the bed she lay in—where had that come from?—and that it had to be early afternoon. She moved her head slightly, feeling a throb of pain in her neck that shot through her back and shoulders.

Hogwarts…the hospital wing. That's where she was. And there were screens erected around her bed. Madam Pomfrey's medicine chest had been moved over here, to where she lay. And with that understanding, memories flooded back to her. They'd all been in the Department of Mysteries, they'd been separated—the Death Eaters in the Hall of Prophecy—Luna and Ginny and Ron had disappeared—she had been with Harry and Neville in that dark little room—Antonin Dolohov—her heartbeat raced suddenly and she gasped in pain.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked to the foot of her bed, moving her head too fast—her vision swam and she felt nauseous. Madam Pomfrey stood at the opening in the screens.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice cried. Hermione's heart leapt—Ron, at least, was here—but she winced at his volume. Bedsprings creaked from somewhere to her left.

Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out from behind Hermione's curtains. "Weasley, if you don't stay in bed, I'll give you a sleeping potion. Stay put."

Even Hermione was surprised at her harsh tone, and was even more taken aback at the expression on the matron's face when she came back through the curtains. Hermione wondered just how bad she looked—she felt awful.

"How are you, my dear?" Madam Pomfrey asked softly, coming over to the bedside, wand raised. Hermione tried to sit up, but Madam Pomfrey gently restrained her. "Don't try to move. I've got a lot of work to do," she said, a worried frown on her face as she read a thin ribbon of parchment that streamed from her wand and vanished.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. She was surprised at how weak her voice sounded, and pain throbbed in her torso when she spoke.

"Curse," Madam Pomfrey said tartly, beginning to look through the small cabinet full of medicine. "One of those—those—" She broke off, looking quite angry but unwilling to say whatever it was that had come to mind, and sighed. "It is not something I recognized right away—possibly something they invented. Still, I was able to repair a lot of the damage. You've been asleep since yesterday morning."

"Where are the others?" Hermione asked moving one arm to lie protectively around her ribs. They were beginning to ache more sharply as her senses slowly returned.

"You seem to have located Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said, selecting a few bottles and setting them in a row on top of the chest. She was still speaking very quietly, and Hermione could tell immediately that she had been having trouble restraining Ron. "He's had some superficial injuries that still need care, but he's going to be just fine. Miss Weasley, Miss Lovegood, and Mr. Longbottom have all been discharged. They are quite well."

"What about—?"

"I'm afraid I haven't seen Mr. Potter yet," Madam Pomfrey said with disapproval in her tone, looking at Hermione with a concerned frown. "The headmaster informed me that he will be in later today."

At that moment, pain shot through Hermione's ribs and she nearly cried out, her eyes filling with tears.

"All right, dear," Madam Pomfrey said, quickly conjuring a goblet and selecting a red glass bottle. She poured a dose of the potion, clear as water, into the goblet and gently tipped it into Hermione's mouth. "This will help."

Hermione felt a wave of cold rush through her, but the pain eased and she found that she could breathe more easily. She closed her eyes and laid one hand on her ribs, just below her heart.

"Is that any better?" the matron asked. Hermione nodded weakly. "Good. I'm going to give you a list of potions to take, but for now you can get some sleep."

Hermione's eyes flew open. "Can't I see—?"

"I'd rather you rest," Madam Pomfrey said. "You may see Mr. Weasley later." She poured another, different potion into the goblet. "This will help you sleep."

Hermione nodded and allowed Madam Pomfrey to administer the draught. As she drifted off, she thought she felt a small, soft hand gently stroke her hair.

* * *

><p>When she woke hours later, the screens around Hermione's bed had vanished. The pain in her sides was less sharp, but distinctly present. The sun had gone down—lamplight filled the hospital wing, and she could see the stars out of the window.<p>

"You look awful," said a voice to her left, conversationally.

Hermione rolled her head over and smiled at Ron, who had propped himself up on one elbow in his bed. "Hi," she said. "You're all right."

"Yeah," said Ron, flexing his free arm in front of him. A thick layer of bandages was just visible underneath his sleeve.

"What happened?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Ah, it's a pretty thrilling story," Ron told her, a grin on his face. "I'll save it for when you can really pay attention and not full of Sleeping Draughts."

"Is Harry all right?" she asked, closing her eyes. Ron didn't answer, and Hermione looked at him, anxious. "What?" she asked, panicked. Her side throbbed, and she pressed her hand to it, clenching her jaw.

Ron's eyes were sad. "Harry's fine, he's not hurt," he assured Hermione. "But, Hermione—"

"Who?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"The Order joined us, while we were in the Ministry," Ron said. "I don't remember much, Ginny told me most of this—"

"Ron, who was it?" Hermione asked him, feeling her voice shake, closing her eyes against the pain in her ribs.

Ron sighed. "Sirius."

"Oh, God," Hermione said, tears spilling from her eyes into her hair.

"I—Hermione, don't cry," Ron said gently. "Come on." He quietly sat up and looked over his shoulder, making sure that Madam Pomfrey couldn't see him. Then he slid out of bed and came over, kneeling next to Hermione. He took her hand.

"He fought really bravely to save all of us," Ron told her. She opened her eyes, feeling more tears welling.

"Did anyone else—" Hermione began.

"No, no," Ron said, squeezing her hand. "Everyone else is okay, or they're going to be. Tonks is in St. Mungo's, and Harry's—well, he'll be all right—right?" Ron looked at her as though hoping for reassurance.

Hermione nodded slightly and closed her eyes. "Of course he will," she said softly. They were silent for a few moments, and Ron thought for an instant that Hermione might have gone to sleep again. He started to get up.

"Ron?" Hermione opened her eyes again, meeting his.

"Yeah?" he asked, kneeling again.

"Who was it?" Hermione wanted to know. Ron sighed, rubbed his face, and looked at Hermione, knowing she wouldn't let the matter drop.

"Bellatrix—Bellatrix Lestrange," Ron told her, his voice breaking slightly.

Hermione's face hardened. "She'll pay," she said firmly.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking alarmed.

"Before this is all over, Ron, she's going to pay for what she's done. Neville's parents, Sirius...I've had it with her," Hermione spat.

Ron still looked disturbed. "With any luck, we won't have to see her that close again," he said. "I do remember her, and I don't think I'll ever forget it."

A sudden noise from Madam Pomfrey's office startled them both. Ron patted Hermione's hand one last time and quickly hurried into his bed, pretending to be asleep just as Madam Pomfrey came down the ward, dousing lights as she went.

She stopped at Hermione's bed, seeing that she was awake. "Time for another pain potion, Miss Granger?" she asked. Hermione nodded. Her pain was worsening. Madam Pomfrey poured her a dose, and Hermione was pleased to find that she managed to sit up slightly and drink it on her own this time.

"Thank you," she said, lying back. Her eyes began to feel heavy.

"You're welcome, my dear. Good night," Madam Pomfrey said, putting out the light with her wand. She continued down the ward, then returned to her office.

As Hermione started to fall asleep again, she heard Ron's voice.

"Night, Hermione."

She opened her eyes sleepily and smiled at him. "Good night, Ron."

* * *

><p>I always wondered what happened to our beloved couple while Harry was getting the worst news of his life. I worried about Hermione. :( She got hurt! Anywho. I forgot to do this yesterday, but I wanted to shamelessly plug myself and say that y'all should check out my new project, "Lily Potter and the Triwizard Tournament." I know it sounds iffy but I'm really working on avoiding the pitfalls of cliche fanfiction. Seriously. :) If you trust me with these two, you can trust me with the next generation. All right, lots of love for all you guys do!<p>

Lucy


	21. Envy

2 December 2004—Envy (Hermione's Harmony)

It was early evening in London, and Hermione stood in the kitchen of the flat that Ginny and Harry shared. It was small, but larger than hers and Ron's, and very cozy and bright. She'd stopped by on her way home from work. Harry and Ron were both somewhere in Scotland, training new Aurors in the wilderness.

The kettle began to boil, and Hermione quickly poured it into a yellow ceramic teapot and placed it on a tray, carrying it into the living room. Ginny settled back into the sofa, accepting and nearly perching her teacup on her enormous belly. "You really didn't need to come and babysit me, Hermione," she said with a grin.

Hermione laid her teacup on the table, crossed her legs, and sank into Harry's armchair, closing her eyes. "Nonsense, I came to sit in this thing while Harry's gone."

Ginny snorted, rubbing her middle. "You're a terrible liar, Hermione, and you always have been. At least you're not Mum, she keeps 'dropping by' every other day to check up on me," she said with a grin. "Don't get me wrong, it's really sweet, but she hovers," Ginny told her seriously.

"No, really, have you sat in this chair?" Hermione asked her incredulously. "It's amazing."

"I got stuck in it last week," Ginny said, taking a sip of her tea.

Hermione burst out laughing, but quickly sobered herself. "Oh, you poor thing," she said concernedly.

Ginny rolled her eyes and smiled. "That's sweet," she said. "But that's exactly what my loving husband said, as a matter of fact. Then I reminded him that this was partially his fault, and he was much more helpful," she laughed, running her hand over her belly again.

"It's going to be any day," Hermione said slightly wistfully, looking at her soon-to-be sister-in-law's stomach. Ginny smiled and leaned forward very awkwardly to take her hand. She twiddled the engagement ring on Hermione's finger.

"And in another month, you and Ron'll finally be married, and not long after that you'll be as big as a house, too!" Ginny said excitedly. Hermione smiled and nodded, looking down at her hand. "Oh! That reminds me, I think I've finally got your seating chart worked out." She started to get up, heaving herself from the couch and laying both hands on her back.

"Gin, I got it—" Hermione began.

"I'm not in labor yet," Ginny teased, walking slowly over to the little worktable in the corner. She picked up a piece of parchment, studied it, and made her way back. "Take a look and tell me if that seems all right," she said, using both arms to lower herself onto the sofa again.

Hermione took the parchment and scrutinized it closely. "Ginny, you're a lifesaver," she said. "Why didn't you remind me? I should've done this weeks ago."

"I knew you wouldn't," Ginny said with a smirk. "Besides, I've only had two articles in the last three weeks, I had plenty of t—" She broke off, her eyes wide. She laid one hand on the side of her belly.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked warily.

Ginny didn't answer right away. Then, she shook her head. "Just a kick, I think," she said finally. She leaned back, patting her side. "Yeah, I'm all right," she told Hermione, much more calmly.

"Okay," Hermione said. "Are you sure?"

"Hermione," Ginny said. "Of course I am."

Two hours later, Hermione tried not to cry out as Ginny crushed her hand, lying in a bed in St. Mungo's Maternity Ward.

"I'm going to murder Harry Potter," Ginny swore as the contraction ended, releasing Hermione. Hermione flexed her fingers weakly, gasping slightly in pain. "Oh," Ginny said. "Sorry."

"It's all right," Hermione said weakly. "Not my wand hand."

Ginny tried to smile. "Aren't any of them here yet?"

"Harry and Ron have to hike to a safe distance from the campsite to be able to Apparate," Hermione told her soothingly for the umpteenth time. She reached for the cold compress one of the nurses had left with them and gently wiped Ginny's forehead, smoothing back her hair. "Your mum and dad are on their way, and I've only just sent the boys the message."

Everyone in the family still referred to the Weasley sons as "the boys," despite the fact that nearly all of them were married, George had a son, and Bill had three children of his own.

"Hermione, if Harry doesn't get here, you're coming in with me," Ginny told her desperately.

"What?" Hermione asked, panic-stricken.

"You're going to be here with me, if Harry doesn't make it," Ginny said. "You will, won't you?"

Hermione gaped at Ginny's brown eyes, full of tears. "I—of course, I will, Ginny," she said, pushing Ginny's hair back again. Ginny seemed to relax a little, lying back against her pillows. Then—

"Teddy," Ginny groaned, looking anxiously at Hermione. "What about Teddy?"

"I already sent a message to Andromeda asking her to keep him for the weekend," Hermione told her. "She said good luck, Teddy sends his love, and he can't wait to meet his new brother or sister, whom he has named Teddy Junior regardless of gender, according to her."

Ginny gave a halfhearted grin. "You're the best, Hermione," she said. "Oh—oh, Merlin—"

Hermione slipped her hand into Ginny's and clenched her teeth.

Harry arrived an hour later, hurrying over to his wife's bed and kneeling beside it. "Hi, sweetheart," he said gently, giving Ginny a kiss on her forehead. He looked up at Hermione and smiled gratefully. She nodded and massaged her hand, getting up to kiss Ron.

"Hi," Ginny said, sounding immensely comforted. Harry took her hand. "Harry?" she asked.

"What, Gin?"

"I'm going to kill you," she told him earnestly.

Ron snorted, but Hermione swatted him. He stepped forward and laid a hand on his sister's shoulder. "How are you, Gin?" he asked.

"Bloody wonderful, thanks for asking," said Ginny cheerfully.

"Ginny? Ginny!" Hermione looked down the ward to see Molly and Arthur hurrying towards them. Molly rushed around the bed to hold her daughter's hand.

"Hi, Mummy," Ginny said, looking much more pleased and relieved to see her mother than Hermione would ever tell her. Molly picked up the compress and pushed Ginny's hair back, wiping her face. "I'm glad you made it."

"Of course we did," said Arthur, clapping Harry on the shoulder. Ginny smiled at them both.

At three o'clock in the morning, Hermione dozed in Ron's lap on an uncomfortable waiting room sofa, fiddling with her engagement ring. He patted her hair gently, starting to fall asleep himself. Molly tapped her foot impatiently, seated in one of two armchairs opposite them. Arthur snored in the other, his head tipped back and mouth open.

"I'm getting a cup of tea," Molly said suddenly, apparently desperate for something to do. She got up and hurried down the corridor.

Arthur jerked awake. "Yes dear," he said before his head dropped back again and he began to snore more loudly.

"How long does this it take?" Ron asked Hermione quietly, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"As long as it takes, Ronald," Hermione answered sleepily, turning over to her side in his lap.

"Mione?" he asked. She turned her head and opened one eye. "Do you want to have kids right away?"

Hermione opened her eyes, frowning. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, Harry and Ginny've been married a year and a half," Ron told her. "They didn't wait all that long to have a baby. What do you think?"

"I—well, I mean…it would depend on our situation," Hermione said, flustered. "I don't know what I think. Having a baby is a big deal, and…we should…think about it, very carefully."

Ron's face fell. "Right," he said.

"Why? What do you think?" Hermione asked, sitting up and staring at him.

Ron looked away. "Well…I guess, I dunno…I always sort of thought we'd have a kid, or maybe a couple," he said. "I've sort of been thinking about it long enough that I'd be willing to have one sooner rather than later."

"Ron, really?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

He looked up at her, and when he saw her face, Ron's expression lit up. "Really," he told her.

Harry came down the hallway, an enormous grin on his face. "It's a boy!" he cried jubilantly. At that exact moment, Ron and Hermione kissed passionately.

"Every damn time," Harry muttered.

* * *

><p>Teehee. Thanks to Hermione's Harmony for the suggestion. Double post! I'm feeling silly. I started another new story, too, called Shades of a Life. Just seven chapters, but I hope you'll check it out! and Lily Potter too!<p>

Lucy


	22. Rose

22 June 2006—Rose (Little Miss Science Nerd)

Ron held his tiny daughter—_daughter_, he thought, smiling to himself. She yawned widely but did not wake. He glanced at Hermione, who was still very soundly asleep in her hospital bed, though it was late morning. The birth had been very hard on her, but she was doing fine, and Rose Minerva Weasley, at a tender twelve hours old, was perfectly healthy.

"Hey," said a soft voice behind Ron. He turned to see Bill, Fleur, Victoire, Dominique, and Louis. "Bad time?" Bill asked, glancing at Hermione.

Ron shook his head, but gestured for them to follow him out the door. When they were outside, Ron stopped and allowed Bill and Fleur to look at Rosie.

"Oh, Ron," Fleur sighed, gently touching her tiny fingers. "She is beautiful."

"Wow," Bill said, grinning at his younger brother, adjusting his hold on Louis. "Sure she's yours?" he asked. Fleur swatted his shoulder, but Ron laughed.

"Can I see?" asked four-year-old Dominique, standing on her tiptoes. Ron bent slightly, and his nieces gathered around to admire their newest cousin. Victoire, at six years old, stared at the baby in awe; no matter how many new babies were brought home, she never seemed to lose her fascination.

"What do you think, girls?" Bill asked. Both his daughters looked up, smiling at Ron.

"She's really pretty," Victoire said. Ron smiled and kissed the top of her head, straightening up.

"We don't want to keep you," Bill said.

"Give 'Ermione our love," Fleur told Ron, kissing his cheek. "We shall see you soon. Come along," she said, taking Victoire's hand. Ron raised one hand in farewell, watching his brother's family leave the ward. Then he turned and carried Rose back into Hermione's room.

As Ron laid the baby in the bassinet at Hermione's side and sank down into a chair, Hermione shifted. Ron gave her a smile, which she returned sleepily.

"How're you feeling?" Ron asked, taking her hand.

"Like I fell off a broomstick," Hermione said, turning onto her side slowly. "Into a patch of Devil's Snare," she groaned, gingerly relaxing into that position. She craned her neck slightly, trying to look into the bassinet. Ron tugged it right up against the bed, and Hermione leaned over it.

"Hi, baby," she said, gently reaching one finger down to stroke Rose's soft, peach fuzz hair. The baby wriggled slightly, but still didn't wake. "Hi, Rose."

"Bill and Fleur were here, with the kids," Ron said softly, looking at his daughter as well. "They send their love, and they think she's beautiful."

"Well, they're right," Hermione said with a grin, moving to lie back on her pillows again. "Can I hold her?"

Ron gently lifted Rosie and placed her in Hermione's arms, sitting down on the bed beside her. Hermione sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, looking into the baby's sleeping face.

"She's perfect," Ron said, playing with Rosie's hand. Hermione nodded.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Weasley?" said a voice outside the door. "Thank you."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and Ron got to his feet, sticking his head out from the curtains.

"Is that—?" Hermione began.

"Professor!" Ron said. "What are you doing here?"

"I think we can forgo the titles," said Minerva McGonagall's voice from the other side of the curtains. "I _am_ your daughter's godmother, am I not?" Ron came back around the curtains, Minerva at his side. She stopped when she saw Hermione holding Rose, standing at the foot of her bed.

"Hi," Hermione said, smiling back.

"Er, Minerva, this is our daughter, Rose," Ron said, stepping closer to Hermione. Minerva came around the edge of the bed, leaning on her stick, with eyes only for the bundle in Hermione's arms.

"My goodness," she said softly, touching one hand to her mouth.

"Do you want to sit down?" Hermione suggested, smiling at her professor's shocked expression. Minerva nodded and sank down into Ron's abandoned seat, her hand still over her mouth.

She seemed to struggle to regain control of herself. Then Minerva cleared her throat and looked up and Ron and Hermione. "She's breathtaking," she said softly.

Hermione smiled up at Ron. "Do you want to hold her?" she asked Minerva.

"May I?"

Hermione nodded and passed the baby to Ron. He carried Rose around the bed and laid her in Minerva's arms.

"My goodness," Minerva said again, transfixed by the baby's small face. "You're just wonderful, aren't you?" she asked softly.

Ron sat down on the bed with Hermione again and grinned at her. Hermione smiled and rested against her pillows. She looked at Minerva, who was positively entranced by Rosie. Ron leaned over and kissed Hermione's cheek.

* * *

><p>Heehee. Ron's so adorable. I feel all cuddly now. :) Love you guys!<p>

Lucy


	23. Stare

15 May 2077—Stare

The first night Hermione ever spent without Ron beside her, knowing that he wouldn't return in the morning with a kiss on her cheek, she lay on her side for most of the night, staring at his pillow. Her grief was beyond tears. She simply watched the moonlight move across their bed, over the dent he had left after more than seventy years of marriage.

Unable to look at the space any longer, she got slowly out of bed, all too aware of how old she felt. She put on her spectacles and dressing gown, not bothering to check her reflection. She reached for her cane and made her way into the kitchen, and out the back door.

In their garden was a little stone bench. Ron had put it there when they first moved in. Hermione moved stiffly over to it, leaning heavily on her cane; she didn't move as well without his help. She lowered herself onto the bench and looked up at the moon.

A breeze rustled through the trees, bearing with it an earthy, rich scent. A garden, after rainfall. Something stirred in her memory, and she closed her eyes. A single tear slipped down her cheek.

* * *

><p>This one broke my heart a little. *sniffle* Hopefully I'll find something happier to write about. Longer, too.<p>

L


	24. Love

1 August 1997—Love (Little Miss Science Nerd)

When the boys had long-since fallen asleep in the parlor at Grimmauld Place, Hermione lay awake on the sofa, watching their sleeping faces. Harry was a very active sleeper. His face twitched and changed expression, and he rolled around, constantly changing position. Hermione hoped he wasn't having any of his nightmares.

Ron, once he had found a comfortable way to lie, did not move at all. His face was pressed into the carpet, his mouth slightly agape, and he was snoring softly. Even after all they had been through in just the last day, Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly. She tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed.

She hoped everyone really was all right at the Burrow, but it was impossible to contact them without endangering themselves or their friends. They hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye to the people they cared about so much. Remus and Tonks, all of Ron's family, Hagrid…what if they never saw any of them again?

Hermione's eyes filled with tears, and she quickly rolled onto her stomach, stifling a sob in the musty old cushions. She had already left her parents behind, then Mad-Eye…what if one of those Death Eaters had killed Harry tonight? Or Ron? She didn't think she could survive the loss of either one of them.

She turned her head and looked at their sleeping forms. She felt a small smile tug up the corners of her mouth as she watched Ron. Nothing could touch Ron Weasley as long as he had food and sleep. This was a truth she'd recognized long ago.

And suddenly, in that one instant, Hermione realized that she loved him. It was a very simple insight, really. After all that they had been through, the truth was suddenly brightly illuminated, like the shaft of moonlight that lit up his features. She loved Ron, and that was all there was to it.

She felt heat flood her cheeks, and she smiled. She reached out one hand for his, and gently slipped her fingers into his. Ron snuffled slightly, cracking his eyes to look at Hermione. He smiled sleepily and tightened his grasp on her hand, falling asleep again almost instantly.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. Even if it was for just this moment, it seemed like everything would be all right.

* * *

><p>Thanks again to LMSN for the idea! You all know how much I love you! Thanks for everything. :) Also, quick poll: I've got their wedding written. Now it's up to you, my lovely readers. I was thinking it would be a wonderful finale, for whenever I get around to having written all I can for these two. OR, if you really, really, really want to see it, I think I can have it ready in a few days. I'm still messing around with it, and it's sort of a complicated setup. LET ME KNOW! Tell me what you think. :)<p>

Lucy


	25. Eight

1 September 2017—Eight

"Ron, stop!" Hermione cried, grabbing her husband's wrist. Ron slammed the brakes on the car.

"Merlin, Hermione, don't do that!" he said exasperatedly. "I wasn't going to hit him."

"Sorry," Hermione answered shortly, watching the Muggle walk away in the rear-view mirror. Ron backed out of their space and pulled onto the road, trundling off in the direction of the highway. Predictably, there was a horrible traffic jam.

Hermione exhaled and crossed her legs, looking out the window. "I knew we should have taken the car back after we left the station."

"Ah, you know Hugo likes riding in the back seat. He'll be happy we're picking him up in it," Ron said with a smile. "Besides, we only got the morning off. We'd never have had time."

"You should send your mother a message or something then, because we're not going to get there for at least an hour," snapped Hermione. She rolled her eyes. "This is ridiculous!" she cried, waving her arms at the cars inching along all around them.

"Hey, come on," Ron said, frowning. "What's the matter? You've been in a mood all week."

"I'm not in a mood," Hermione told him sharply. Ron bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh and reached for her hand. She wouldn't open her fists, so he placed his hand on top of them.

"She's going to be fine," he said. "This is Rosie we're talking about. If she doesn't have half her year charmed by the time she gets off the train, I'm—er, one of Luna's pets—what were they? Crinkle-Horned Snickers?"

Hermione laughed reluctantly. "Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," she said. She allowed Ron to interlock his fingers with hers and turned to look at him. "I didn't think I could ever feel as anxious as I did when I first got to Hogwarts. I was completely wound up, I couldn't stop talking."

"Really? I don't remember any of that," Ron said delicately, keeping his eyes on the road. Hermione hit his shoulder, laughing. Then she looked down.

"What if she's unhappy?" asked Hermione. "What if she doesn't fit in, like—like me?" she finished quietly.

"Well, we'll have to disown her," Ron said, shrugging. "I mean, sure, it's been fun these last few years—"

"Ron, seriously," Hermione interrupted. "My mother never knew what to tell me when I wrote her. What do I say to Rosie if she's the same way?"

"Hermione," Ron said. "One of my very favorite things about our beautiful daughter is that she is just like you in so many ways. And one of my very favorite things about you, my beautiful wife, is that you have a rather persistent way of never giving up on what you want. Rosie's going to be great."

Hermione sighed and looked out the window.

"Besides, my other favorite thing about her is that she's just like me, too," Ron added. "And do you remember how popular I was? I mean, really, it was just—whew."

Hermione snorted. "Oh, please," she said.

"Just trust me, Hermione," Ron told her, quickly changing lanes. "She's with her godmother, and Neville, _and _two of her favorite cousins. She's going to be beyond happy." Hermione nodded.

"I miss her already," she said. "I was thinking about her all day. I swear I was just pregnant last week…wasn't I?"

Ron laughed. "I tell you what, why don't we see if Mum and Dad'll let us stay for dinner? Mum can talk you down from being a first-time Hogwarts parent."

"I just need to see Hugo," Hermione said as Ron turned off the main road and onto the little dirt lane to the Burrow. Ron patted her hand. In a few minutes they pulled up alongside the leaning house and climbed out of the car.

"Mum!"

Nine-year-old Hugo came shooting out the kitchen door, across the garden, and tackled Hermione about her waist. She stumbled, but smiled and knelt in front of Hugo and wrapped him in a tight hug. Molly came outside, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling as she kissed Ron. Hermione looked over Hugo's shoulder at her.

"He's been missing his sister," Molly whispered. Hermione nodded and scooped Hugo up in her arms, kissing his cheek.

"Aw, mate," Ron said as Hermione carried their son closer. "You miss Rosie?" Hugo shrugged, and Ron tousled his hair.

Ron turned to his mother. "Mum, we were wondering—"

"I've already got the table set for eight," Molly said with a knowing look between Ron and Hermione, before heading back into the house.

"Eight?" Ron asked. "Who—"

Molly turned back and nodded over his shoulder. Hermione and Ron turned around to see Harry, carrying Lily, and Ginny, walking in the garden gate with rather sheepish looks on their faces.

"Lily!" Hugo slid out of his mother's grasp and bolted across the garden towards his best friend, who scrambled away from Harry. They ran into the house together, giggling. Molly shook her head and hurried through the door after them.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione stood awkwardly in the garden for a moment, not making eye contact. Then, Hermione looked up at Harry and burst out laughing. One by one, they all succumbed to laughter and hugged each other. Hermione threw one arm around Ginny's neck, and Ron and Harry followed them into the house.

* * *

><p>Heh. Hope it was worth the wait!<p>

L


	26. Argument

12 September 2029—Argument

Hermione sighed, removed her spectacles, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Ron," she said. Her husband did not stop his incessant pacing back and forth in front of their bed. "_Ron_," she said more insistently.

"No, Hermione, no!" Ron cried, running his hands through his thinning red hair. "Don't try to make me calm down, I'm not going to!"

Hermione was silent for a few moments. "There's nothing we can do," she said gently. "This is what she wants. And it's going to make her happy."

"What does she know about what's going to make her happy?" Ron snapped. "She's only—"

"She's twenty-three years old, Ron," Hermione told him, keeping her tone even, but raising her volume. She replaced her glasses and looked sharply at him. "I won't be the person to stand in their way. I won't lose my daughter over this."

Ron threw his hands up, made a noise of agitation, and dropped onto the bed. Hermione closed her eyes and gave a small moan of pain, laying a hand on her stomach. Ron turned around, horrified.

"Oh, Hermione—I'm sorry, I wasn't think—"

"It's all right," she said, waving one hand as the pain subsided. "It wasn't that bad."

After nearly a month, Hermione was recovering from an assassination attempt. She'd gone to the Leaky Cauldron with several co-workers to celebrate the passage of several new laws regarding the treatment of house-elves and other domestic creatures. Investigations were ongoing as to who, or why, but Hermione's drink had been laced with a fast-acting poison, and though neither Ron nor Hermione would say it, she had come far too close to dying. She was barely a week out of St. Mungo's.

Now, Ron moved a little more carefully to lean against the headboard beside her. "I just…I can't believe that they really are right for each other," he said. "He's a _Slytherin_, for Merlin's sake."

"He's a Ravenclaw, Ron," Hermione told him. "His _father_ was a Slytherin, not that that should matter," she added arching an eyebrow.

Ron scowled. "I—he—that family tortured you! They could have killed all of us, and they would have—"

"And you think that one boy should be painted with the same brush as his entire family?" Hermione asked. Ron blinked. "Besides, from what Rose tells me, Draco and Astoria are already threatening disinheritance."

Rather than placating Ron, this seemed to make him more annoyed. "Even more reason why they shouldn't! They'll be starting off with nearly nothing—"

"Like us?" Hermione asked, barely concealing a smile. Ron stopped, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Hermione continued, lacing her hand in his. "Ron, I'll admit, it's taken a lot of consideration, but I've moved beyond what happened to us all those years ago. If Rosie is going to be happy with Scorpius, and he's willing to lay his family ties on the line to make her happy, I have to believe that they'll work it out."

Ron looked away, but Hermione tugged his hand.

"Be better than his parents, Ron," Hermione said. "Don't cut your daughter off because she fell in love. That's wrong in every way, and you know it. What if your family had objected to us getting married? You're pureblood, I'm a Muggleborn. Your parents could have been just as upset."

"That's completely different," Ron said, though he sounded halfhearted.

"No it's not, Ron," Hermione told him with a soft smile, knowing that she was winning. "I'm not asking you to be best friends with him. But he's the man your daughter loves and wants to marry, and who knows? He could be the father of our grandchildren one day," she said, smiling a little more widely.

"One step at a time," Ron said sternly. He rubbed his face, sighing. "I…all right. You're right."

"Of course I am," Hermione told him. Ron smiled, and Hermione pursed her lips. He came close and kissed her gently.

"I'll write Rose back in the morning, inviting them for dinner," Hermione said, as Ron helped her start to lie down, groaning slightly.

"You all right?" Ron asked.

Hermione smiled and nodded, taking off her glasses and laying them on the bedside table. Ron pointed his wand at the lights, and they went out immediately. Ron sank down under the blankets beside her, and Hermione moved stiffly to lie closer against him. Ron put an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"How does Saturday sound?" Hermione asked sleepily, relaxing.

Ron sighed, staring up at the dark ceiling. "All right," he said finally. Then he smirked. "I love you both too much for my own damn good. I haven't won an argument in forty years."

Hermione gave a gentle laugh, wincing slightly. "And you won't, as long as I'm around."

"Thank goodness," Ron said. They kissed once again, and went to sleep.

* * *

><p>I don't think I said this yesterday, but I'll be saving the wedding for the finale, whenever that may be. :) More people liked that idea. Also, the whole assassination thing is part of a plot bunny that came to my house with some of his thug friends and whacked me with a stick until I wrote him down. I'll be fine, but I'm pretty excited about it (don't worry, there's no Voldy knockoffs or anything, it's just a fourfive chapter crisis bit, for as much as I try to deny it, their lives cannot be perfect. *sigh*). Keep your eyes peeled! And as always, you're an amazing group of readers, and I'm incredibly lucky to have you and your support.

Lucy


	27. Love II

23 March 1998—Love II

Ron and Hermione hit the ground, hard, just a hundred feet from Shell Cottage. Ron looked at Hermione. She was pale and unconscious.

"No—" Ron quickly scrambled to his feet and lifted Hermione into his arms, starting to run for the door. As he ran, he heard the telltale _crack_ that signaled Harry's return with Dobby and the goblin, but Ron didn't care. He burst into the house, looking desperately around for his brother.

"Ron!" Bill cried, staring at Hermione. "What—?"

"Help her," Ron croaked, feeling tears coming. Bill looked astonished.

"I—take her to our room," he said finally. Then he rushed out the door. Ron charged up the stairs, clutching Hermione close to his chest. He saw Fleur emerging from one of the rooms, her expression aghast. She hurried in front of Ron and opened the door to hers and Bill's bedroom.

Ron laid Hermione on the bed and looked desperately up at Fleur.

"Fleur!" Bill called from outside. "Fleur!"

"I will come back, Ron," Fleur promised. "I must make sure zey are all right."

Ron nodded, and Fleur left. He began to gingerly assess Hermione's injuries. There was a deep cut on her forehead—Bellatrix must have kicked her. From the way Hermione was breathing, he suspected broken ribs as well. As he adjusted Hermione on the bed, Ron noticed that one of her shoulders appeared to be injured—a dark bruise was already flourishing up the side of Hermione's neck, and the joint sat at an odd angle.

There was the faintest line of the cut that Bellatrix's dagger had made on her throat—it had already stopped bleeding. Any one of these larger injuries were beyond his limited medical abilities, but carefully, he touched his wand to her cuts, and they knit before his eyes.

Ron sighed and stowed his wand again. He picked up Hermione's hand. "Thank you," he said. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm so, so sorry," he whispered. "Please be all right, please…I love you."

The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he had said. Then he thought for a moment—Ron had known it from the moment Bellatrix snatched Hermione away from him. He loved Hermione Granger. He loved her more than he had ever loved any one person in the world.

Ron took Hermione's hand, feeling like he could laugh out loud, even after all they had been through tonight. "I love you, Hermione," he said again. It sounded so right and he meant it so much that he wanted to tell her every single day for the rest of his life. Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and she immediately found Ron.

"Hermione," Ron said faintly, smiling at her.

Hermione smiled back at him. She looked weak and shaky. "Are you all right?" Hermione asked. Her voice was dry and sounded pained.

"Yeah," Ron said. He felt like singing. He would never lose those brown eyes ever again; he would make sure of that. "I'm fine."

* * *

><p>YAY! Silly boys. Always takes them a li'l longer. But he's figured it out! HURRAY! I'm so proud of Ron. Everyone, you're wonderful. I'm going to go cuddle my stuffed animals and roll around happily for a while with my dog. Enjoy your day (off, if you're in the States like me!). So much love.<p>

Lucy


	28. Injured

2 October 1998—Injured

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said slowly as he opened the door of his and Ron's flat. "What are—?"

"Where is he?" Hermione asked, looking livid. Harry stepped aside and gestured down the hall behind him, looking rather afraid. Hermione marched past him into Ron's bedroom. The door slammed magically shut behind her. She folded her arms and glared at Ron, who lay in his pajamas on top of the covers, his left leg splinted and wrapped in bandages. He looked rather the worse for wear, but the cuts and bruises on his arms and his un-bandaged leg were largely healed. He grinned sheepishly up at her.

"Would you believe that I missed you and really wanted to see you?" Ron asked. Hermione scowled, her expression furious. Then her jaw quivered. She burst into tears and climbed onto the bed beside him, crying and kissing him as she threw her arms around his neck.

"Merlin, Hermione," said Ron, sounding pleased. "I should get hurt more often."

Hermione pulled away and glared fiercely at him, wiping her tears away. "Don't you ever say that again!" she snapped. Then she kissed him again. "I leave you alone for a month, and you get yourself half-killed in training?" she demanded. "And then you have Harry send these cryptic messages three days late, and I don't even know if you're alive or not, or where you are—Ginny sends her best Bat-Bogey Hex, by the way, she was losing her mind with worry, too—"

"Hey, how about a little sympathy for the wounded?" Ron asked. "I'm fine, Hermione. I didn't want to worry you two when you'd just started back at school. But I knew Mum would tell you, so I asked Harry to give you a lighter version of what happened before she had the chance."

Hermione sighed. "I was worried anyway, you prat," she said, but she had softened considerably. She touched Ron's injured leg. "Are you in pain?" she asked.

Ron scrutinized her carefully, clearly trying to calculate how much he could sell to her. "Yeah, but, you know—I'm doing all right," he said, putting on a brave face.

Hermione smirked and kissed him again. "I'll stay here for the weekend with you," she said, pushing back her hair. "Then I'll go back to Hogwarts. I'll get us some dinner." She got up to find a menu for ordering in.

"Let's have something from the Cauldron," Ron suggested as Hermione walked out.

"I'm picking, Weasley," Hermione yelled from the hallway.

* * *

><p>Hehehe lover's quarrel. :) Love you all!<p>

Lucy


	29. Hogwarts Express

28 June 1996—Hogwarts Express

It didn't take long for the flurry of rushing to get on the Hogwarts Express to take its toll on Hermione, who was still recovering from Dolohov's curse. By the time she, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Neville had found a compartment, she was ready to sit down and sleep. She took a seat between Ron and Neville and tipped her head back, closing her eyes.

Before long, however, Hermione felt the surface she was laying on move beneath her head. She opened her eyes slightly to see Ginny pulling out _The Quibbler_ and dropping a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ onto Harry's abandoned seat.

Hermione realized with a jolt that she was leaning on Ron's shoulder and sat up very quickly, feeling embarrassed. Neville smiled at her.

"You're awake," he said. Hermione nodded, and looked sideways at Ron.

"Was I—?" she asked, blushing bright pink.

"No, only a few—" Ron answered, his ears going scarlet.

"Oh," Hermione said, not looking at him. "Good." They looked away from each other, and Hermione edged closer to Neville. She then spotted the _Daily Prophet_ again and snatched it up, quickly rifling through its pages and raising them in front of her face. Before she did, Ginny smirked at her, and Hermione glared back.

After a few minutes, they heard a loud commotion in the train corridor. Hermione lowered her newspaper and frowned at Ginny, who shrugged. Then there was the distinct sound of someone yelling.

"You don't think that's—?" Hermione asked, glancing at Harry's empty seat and then back at Ron.

"Isn't it always?" Ron asked, not looking particularly bothered. Ginny and Hermione hit Ron at the same time, both of them glaring. "Oi! You lunatics, I'll go check on him," Ron grumbled. "C'mon, Neville."

He drew his wand and slid open the compartment door, mumbling to himself. "Git can't even go to a washroom by himself without getting attacked…" Neville followed Ron.

Hermione watched them go, biting her lip. Then she felt Ginny's eyes on her and looked back.

"What?" she asked, going pink again.

Ginny raised her eyebrows and smiled innocently. "Nothing."

* * *

><p>So this is when they're on the train and the DA curses Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle into big ol' slugs! :) I know it's short, I'm sorry! I've got like a million things I'm doing right now. I'll get back to the request stories once I make a little more headway with my Lily piece (shameless plug goes here). Love you all!<p>

Lucy


	30. Calendar

21 February 2007—Calendar (ThatSuperHotSexyBookworm)

Hermione opened her eyes just a fraction and sighed heavily. Rose was crying from her room down the hall. Hermione dragged herself up and sat on the edge of the bed, her head pounding. She looked over her shoulder. Ron appeared to have already gotten up to get Rosie. She had a nasty cold, which she'd given to Hermione, and was especially needy.

"Hey, you're up," Ron said, coming in their room. He carried a sniffly and tearstained eight-month-old in yellow jammies, and he was half-dressed in his work robes. It was later than Hermione had thought. She put her hands out and Ron gave her their daughter, who immediately clung to Hermione and continued to whimper.

"I just changed her, and here's her bottle," said Ron quickly, fastening his robes and running into the bathroom to brush his hair. He came back and kissed the top of Hermione's head, sitting down to put his shoes on. "I Flooed Mum and told her you're not going to work."

"Mmm, thank you," Hermione mumbled sleepily, scooting to sit cross-legged against the headboard. She adjusted Rose in her arms and offered her the bottle. Then Hermione leaned her head back and closed her eyes, hoping her headache would subside.

"Feel better, girls," said Ron, getting up. He came over and kissed Rosie's tummy, giving them both a quick embrace. "I'll see you this afternoon."

"Ron, take her," Hermione said urgently.

"What?"

Hermione quickly thrust Rose into his arms. The baby began to cry as Hermione vaulted over the bed, into the bathroom, and was spectacularly sick into the toilet.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Ron cried over Rosie's wails as he moved into the doorway. He bounced the baby, trying to get her to take her bottle again, but Rose would have none of it and only screamed louder. Hermione reached up one hand to flush the toilet and sat back on the floor, her eyes shut.

"Unnhh," Hermione groaned. She got unsteadily to her feet and looked at her reflection. She splashed some water on her face, took a deep breath, and then turned to Ron, who was still trying to calm Rose. "Mummy's sorry, sweetheart, really," she said gently, taking her daughter, who immediately began to quiet, sniffling into Hermione's neck.

Ron adjusted his robes and frowned. "Should I stay home today? If you're that sick?"

Hermione shook her head. "You're already running late, we'll be fine." She kissed Rose's ear and took the bottle from Ron. "I don't think I—I…" she trailed off, her expression going blank.

"Hermione?" Ron asked nervously.

Hermione hurried past him to the dresser, still carrying Rose on her hip, and opened her purse with one hand. Digging around, she quickly retrieved a small blue day planner and flipped it open to a month-by-month calendar. Rosie whimpered, and Hermione spoke soothingly to her, counting furiously—once—twice—three times. She turned back to Ron, her face disbelieving.

"I…Ron, I think…I think I'm pregnant," she said softly.

The only sound in the room was Rose's soft snuffling as she looked between her parents, fingers in her mouth.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked at last, his expression hopeful, but betraying all the pain that the two of them had experienced in the last four months. Hermione's recent miscarriage was not something that the rest of the family knew of. They had not expected that pregnancy, and by the time the complication had arisen, it was too late to save the child. It had taken a great deal of time and effort to even begin feeling somewhat back to normal.

Neither of them had not imagined that another pregnancy would come along again so soon.

"I'm nearly three weeks late," Hermione answered in a half-whisper. "Our anniversary—"

"We need to—"

"St. Mungo's—"

"We'll go this afternoon," Ron told her, starting to smile. He strode over to her and gave her a kiss. Hermione began to laugh as tears formed in her eyes, and Rosie mewled loudly.

"I'll make the appointment," Hermione said. She moved Rose so that she could cradle her. "Oh, Rosie," she cooed, kissing the chubby pink cheek. "It's all right, sweetheart, it's all right, we're just happy." Rosie put one hand on her mother's cheek, looking very deeply concerned.

Ron smiled, choking up a little bit himself. "I love you," he told Hermione, his voice breaking slightly.

Hermione nodded. "I love you too." They kissed, and Rosie gave a small shriek. Hermione moved the baby to her shoulder, bouncing her gently.

"We love you, too, princess," Ron said, kissing Rosie's neck. For the first time that morning, Rosie smiled. "Do you want to take her to my parents' house?"

"No," Hermione said quickly. Ron blinked. "I just—can we keep this to ourselves? For now, at least?" she asked.

Ron nodded, his expression understanding. "We'll take her with us. Maybe they can give us something for her cold." He kissed Hermione again.

Hermione smiled. "Well, go!" she said. "I'll owl you with the time."

Ron nodded. "I'll see you this afternoon," he said, hurrying for the bedroom door. "I love you!" he called from the stairway.

Hermione laughed to herself, then looked at Rose, who was sniffling as she sat up in Hermione's arms, staring after her father with great interest, fingers still stuffed in her mouth. Then she looked back at Hermione.

"Muh?" asked Rosie.

"All right, baby, let's let you finish your breakfast," Hermione said, picking up the bottle. Rosie smiled again and wrapped one slobbery hand around Hermione's neck, and Hermione laughed. She sat down against the headboard again and laid out a pillow before her crossed legs, propping Rosie on it and tipping the bottle into her mouth.

As she drank, Rosie stared fixedly at her mother, and Hermione rubbed her chubby, yellow-clad belly. Rosie wriggled delightedly. Hermione glanced over at the day planner, still sitting open on the dresser, and smiled to herself.

* * *

><p>MY GOD I LOVE THIS BABY! Bahhhhhhhhh so cute. :) Thanks TSHSB for the prompt!<p>

L


	31. Shave

3 November 1994—Shave (whispered touches)

Ron and Hermione sat at lunch in the Great Hall, eating in silence. Ron kept stealing dark glances up the table to where Harry sat with Neville Longbottom.

Hermione sighed. "Ron, I'm sure if you just _talk_ to him—"

"Hermione, no," Ron said. "That git wants to talk to me, fine, but I don't have anything to apologize for." And he resumed his murderous glare into his soup.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned the page in the _Daily Prophet_. Ron continued snorting derisively for several minutes, until Hermione folded up the newspaper and slapped it down on the table.

"You are so immature, Ronald!" she snapped. "And you're driving me mad. Act your age, and go talk to your best friend. Now!" Ron started to argue, but was interrupted.

"Act his age, Hermione?" Fred asked, sliding onto the bench beside Hermione.

"Four and a half, or thereabouts, you mean?" asked George, sitting down next to Ron. Hermione laughed.

Fred made a face and looked between Ron and Hermione. "I don't think you want that, honestly," he told Hermione.

"Ronniekins was something of a scaredy-cat," George stage-whispered. Ron whacked his shoulder.

"Only because I had you two torturing me day and night!" Ron said, going red around the ears.

"Poppycock!" Fred cried, seizing a roll and taking a bite. He pointed at Ron. "We were raising you properly. Mum was far too soft." Hermione was positively shaking with laughter by now.

"Go shave your beards," Ron muttered sourly.

"Ah, Ronnie, we had those removed days ago," Fred said, shaking his head and looking disappointed. "Gotta be faster."

George tickled Ron's chin, and Ron swatted him away. "Don't worry, Ronnie-pie, one day you'll be grown up, just like us!"

Hermione burst out laughing, holding her sides. Ron scowled.

* * *

><p>Hehehehhehehe thanks to whispered touches! :) Hope you like!<p>

Lucy


	32. Letter

9 July 2033—Letter

"Ron," Hermione called from the kitchen. "Ron, tea's ready!"

"Hermione," Ron said slowly, sounding very anxious.

"What?" Hermione frowned and walked to the living room. Ron was holding a piece of parchment very carefully, as though he expected it to erupt into flames. "For goodness' sake, Ron, what is it?" Hermione pushed her spectacles up her nose and took the letter from him. She recognized the writing instantly.

"Sweetheart, it's just Rosie and Scorpius," Hermione said. Ron shook his head, and Hermione rolled her eyes, reading aloud in a businesslike tone.

"'Dear Mum and Dad, Scorp and I are coming home on the fourteenth, but we—' " Hermione stopped, her eyes widening. "I—Ron, did you read this?" she gasped, putting a hand over her mouth.

"What do you think, Hermione?" Ron laughed.

Hermione threw herself into Ron's arms, and they embraced, laughing uncontrollably for several minutes. Finally, they sank down onto the sofa together, and Hermione tilted her head back, still smiling. She turned her head and looked at Ron. He was wiping a tear from his eye, and Hermione found herself brushing away a few of her own. She leaned against him, and he put an arm around her.

They were both silent for a few minutes.

"We're not old, are we? This doesn't make us old?" Hermione asked.

"Well, _you're_ old," Ron answered with an evil grin. Hermione swatted him.

"We're the same age," she chuckled.

"Only six months of the year," said Ron, arching his eyebrows, making fun of her.

"Oh, honestly, Ronald," Hermione sighed, patting his chest. She sat up suddenly. "Damn, I forgot the tea," she said, starting to get up. Ron seized Hermione's hips and pulled her back down beside him, giving her a kiss. She kissed him back and got up again.

"Hermione?"

She turned. Ron was smiling at her.

"You're going to be a really gorgeous grandmother," he said. Hermione smiled.


	33. Tortured

23 March 1998—Tortured

Narcissa hesitated for a moment, then addressed the werewolf.

"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."

"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except…except for the Mudblood."

Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.

"No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"

Bellatrix hit him across the face; the blow echoed around the room.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she said. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them—yet."

As the werewolf dragged Harry and Ron away, Bellatrix Lestrange stepped forward, slashing through the ropes that bound Hermione, and yanked her by the hair to the center of the carpet. Hermione saw Ron disappear around the corner, his eyes wide and terrified, and thought briefly of screaming out his name. Then she saw Bellatrix marching around her, and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, breathing in the musty, burnt scent of the rug where Bellatrix had just burned it.

She had but a moment's relief before Bellatrix aimed a kick at her side and she gave an involuntary grunt, rolling onto her back. Bellatrix bent over Hermione's face, her expression livid. She seized Hermione by the neck, pulling their faces to within an inch of each other.

"Where—did you get—the sword?" Bellatrix hissed.

Hermione clenched her jaw, readying herself for what was coming and trying not to show the fear that was overwhelming her. _For Ron_, she thought. _This is to protect him_. When she said nothing, Bellatrix threw her back onto the floor. Hermione hit her head, and stars danced before her eyes, but she saw Bellatrix draw her wand with a flourish, and quickly clenched every muscle in her body.

Fire burst throughout Hermione's body, and she tried not to writhe, to give Bellatrix the satisfaction. She kept her eyes open, tears streaming into her hair as she lay, shaking, on the carpet. Bellatrix's eyes widened and she took a step closer. The pain intensified, and Hermione could stop it no longer.

She screamed.

If Hermione had not felt it burn her throat, felt it tear her lungs apart like white-hot knives, she would not have believed that she could make such a sound. Dimly, she heard Bellatrix laugh, and the pain stopped. Hermione rolled onto her side, breathing heavily. If she had eaten more recently, she would have vomited. Sweat coated her face, and she made eye contact with Malfoy, who stood by the fire, his eyes wide.

With her face pressed into the carpet, Hermione imagined that she could hear Ron screaming her name. _If only_, she thought.

Bellatrix seized Hermione's upper arm and yanked her upwards again. Hermione hissed in pain, feeling a hard pop in her shoulder.

"Where?" Bellatrix demanded, her spit spraying Hermione's face. "_Where?_"

Again, Hermione refused to answer, and Bellatrix threw her to the ground. Bellatrix wasted no time, but immediately turned the Cruciatus Curse on her, and Hermione began to scream again. The pain was worse, a thousand times worse. It burned throughout her, for longer. Her shoulder felt as though it had been torn open.

When the curse finally, finally lifted, Hermione was sobbing into the carpet. Bellatrix seized her injured shoulder and screamed in her face.

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? _Where?_" she shrieked, looking quite insane.

Hermione was shaking with pain and fear, tears still on her cheeks. "We found it," she said finally, quietly. Bellatrix's lip curled. "We found it!" Hermione cried, more loudly. Bellatrix threw her down. "We found it—PLEASE!" The awful black wand rose again and the pain exploded throughout Hermione's body.

When it ceased, Hermione lay on her back, spread-eagled, staring up at the chandelier, and thinking how beautiful it was. She had always wanted a chandelier as a child. An image of herself touching Ron's hand as they stood under a chandelier, flashed through her mind.

She was unable to draw breath, unable to move. All sensation was flooding from her body, and Hermione wondered if she was dying. Her head lolled to the side, and she caught sight of Malfoy again. He looked away quickly, but not before meeting her anguished brown eyes. He pressed a fist over his mouth and faced the fireplace.

Again, Hermione imagined Ron's voice screaming for her, and she closed her eyes, trying to reach for him—if she was dying, then she wanted him to be her last memory—

"You," Bellatrix shrieked, "are a lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, _tell the truth!_"

And there was the pain again—Hermione knew she couldn't have been dying before, because every nerve in her body was even more awake and tortured than before. The scream came naturally this time, she could do nothing to stop it. Bellatrix did not even lift the curse this time to scream at Hermione.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth, or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" The pain stopped, and Hermione felt a rush of adrenaline as she stared the silver dagger Bellatrix held.

"HERMIONE!"

She looked around—she hadn't been imagining things—Ron was screaming her name—she wanted to laugh—

"What else did you take, what else?" Bellatrix screamed. Hermione tried to crawl away, to find Ron— "ANSWER ME! _CRUCIO!_"

Hermione screamed and cried harder, arching back on the carpet.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"Ron," she whispered as the curse ended. His voice bolstered her, made her want to fight. Bellatrix seized her arms and shook Hermione violently.

"How did you get into my vault?" she yelled. "Did that dirty little goblin down in the cellar help you?"

Hermione tried to struggle away from Bellatrix's grasp, but Bellatrix clung to her. "We only met him tonight!" she cried. "We've never been inside your vault…It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy?" Bellatrix screamed, shaking her again. Hermione's shoulder throbbed. "A likely story!" she spat.

"But we can find out easily!" Hermione turned streaming eyes on Lucius Malfoy, who had stepped out from the corner. He didn't even glance at Hermione. He turned to his son. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not." Draco left the room hurriedly.

Hermione let her head fall back. Bellatrix dropped her again and spat on her, an ugly look on her face. She kicked Hermione four times, until Hermione lay curled on the floor, crying silently.

Malfoy had returned, the injured goblin in his grasp. He threw Griphook bodily at Bellatrix's feet.

"You, you filthy animal," Bellatrix growled, aiming a kick at Griphook's broken legs. The goblin groaned. "You've been helping these—these—"

"No," Hermione moaned. "No, don't hurt him."

"Silence!" Bellatrix screeched. She turned her wand on Hermione, and Hermione screamed again, this time so loudly that she felt blood vessels burst in her eyes. When Bellatrix released her, all Hermione could do was lie on the floor. Everything was starting to swim; she couldn't focus on anything, she felt dizzy and sick. Her blood pounded in her ears.

Just as Hermione was certain that she was going to lose consciousness, she heard Lucius Malfoy speak again. It sounded as though he were underwater—he ordered Pettigrew to go to the cellar—that's where Ron is, Hermione thought desperately. Pettigrew is a murderer—no—

Hermione could barely keep her eyes open. She stared, transfixed, at the embers dancing in the fireplace. Colors flashed in front of her eyes. She was going to die. She was going to be murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange, and then Ron and Harry were next. No…tears began pouring down her cheeks again.

Lucius Malfoy dragged the goblin, Griphook, into a sitting position, and thrust into his long-fingered hands the sword of Gryffindor.

_Lie_, Hermione thought fuzzily. _Please lie._

Bellatrix stepped over Hermione's prone form, circling Griphook. "Well?" she asked. "Is it the true sword?"

_Lie, lie, lie_, Hermione thought desperately.

"No," said Griphook finally. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure? Quite sure?" Bellatrix demanded.

"Yes," Griphook told her. Hermione sighed in relief, tears of gratitude forming.

"Good." Bellatrix waved her wand and slashed a cut into the goblin's face. Griphook yelled and fell over, landing beside Hermione. "And now, we call the Dark Lord."

Hermione couldn't lift her head, but she didn't need to see to know that Bellatrix had touched her Dark Mark; Voldemort would be there in minutes. He would murder them all, saving Harry for last—

"And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood," Bellatrix gave Hermione another kick, and Hermione felt at least one more rib break. "Greyback, take her if you want her."

_No_, Hermione wanted to cry, but she didn't have the strength.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ron ran into the room, startling everyone and disarming Bellatrix instantly. Harry ran in after him, caught the wand, and Stunned Lucius Malfoy. He ducked to avoid spells from Greyback, Malfoy, and Narcissa and dove out of site. Then Hermione saw Bellatrix running for her, drawing the silver knife.

Hermione tried to get up, but wasn't fast enough—in her fervor to grab her, Bellatrix's pointed boot collided with the side of Hermione's head, and everything went black. _Ron_…

Sounds, voices, and colors swirled around her as her head throbbed. _I love you_, one of the voices said. Hermione opened her eyes. Ron was holding her hand, and she lay in a very warm, very large, very comfortable bed in a room she didn't recognize.

"Hermione," Ron said, smiling. He was tearstained and very white, but he looked unhurt.

Hermione felt sore and dizzy, even lying down. Still, she smiled back at him. "Are you all right?" Hermione asked. Her throat still burned.

"Yeah," Ron said. He looked happier than Hermione had seen him in a very long time. "I'm fine."

* * *

><p>The opening lines and a great deal of the dialogue are familiar because they're from Deathly Hallows; not mine, obviously, but it was the best place to start it. The last lines are familiar because I wrote them like three days ago. I just had to make sure Hermione was okay again. :) Thanks for reading, lots of love! (And if this isn't your favorite chapter, I hope you'll forgive me...I'll be honest, it's not my favorite either!)<p>

ALSO: A shameless plug. I'm running a competition called the Sibling Rivalry Competition, and if you google that with my penname you should find it just fine. I'd love for any and all of you to participate!

L


	34. Chudley Cannons

Just a warning, kids-dirty jokes in this one!

* * *

><p>30 November 1994—Chudley Cannons (whispered touches)<p>

Harry and Ron sat in the Gryffindor common room, playing chess and, once again, putting off their Potions homework. Harry was more pleased than he was entirely willing to let on that Ron was on speaking terms with him once again. He got the impression that the feeling was mutual.

Ron was two moves away from a checkmate when he was hit abruptly from behind by a very heavy-looking book.

"OI!" he bellowed, leaping to his feet and upsetting the chessboard. The pieces rolled away all over the rug, squealing in fright. Ron stared around, trying to find the source of the projectile. Quickly, he found Hermione standing at the bottom of the girls' staircase. She was glaring at him with the promise of nothing less than a slow and painful death burning in her eyes.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, what did you do that for?" Ron cried angrily, massaging the back of his head.

Hermione took a few steps closer, her eyes narrowing. She was almost a full head shorter than Ron, but she stared menacingly up at him, just inches apart.

"What do you think?" she hissed between gritted teeth. Harry was beginning to feel rather nervous, so he stopped collecting the fallen chessmen and took refuge a few feet away, separated safely from Hermione by several large, heavy pieces of furniture.

"Oh," said Ron in a would-be casual voice, trying to edge away from her. "You—oh—"

"Oh, yes, Ron," Hermione answered, her tone positively dangerous. Several people had now turned to stare at her, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Well, see, I can explain about that—" Ron was still trying to back away, and nearly upset the chessboard again.

"Can you?" asked Hermione in a tone of feigned surprise. "Well, let's hear it then, by all means!" She continued to advance closer to Ron, who fell backwards onto the sofa. He scrambled up again, using it for protection.

"Well, let's be honest, I've never done anything like it before," he said, still trying to get away.

"Nor will you, ever again," Hermione said coldly, drawing her wand. Red sparks flew from the end.

"Listen, I can help you—"

"You won't be _helping _me," said Hermione. She had Ron backed against the wall at this point, her wand drawn. "You're going to do this all by yourself."

"Hey," Harry said, feeling his cheeks flush. People were starting to snigger.

"Aw, c'mon, Hermione, you know that thing never does what I want," Ron moaned.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan burst into uncontrollable laughter in the corner, and Fred and George Weasley slapped a high five.

"Ron…Hermione…" Harry was distinctly uncomfortable.

"That _thing_ has a name!" Hermione shrieked.

This was too much for Fred and George, who positively screamed with laughter and staggered about, doubled over and holding onto one another for support.

"HEY!" Harry bellowed. Ron and Hermione faced him. "WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Ron turned beet red, having just noticed his audience, most of whom had tears streaming from their eyes with mirth. Hermione seemed quite unperturbed.

"Ronald has decided that it would be absolutely wonderfully _hilarious_ to jinx Crookshanks. He won't come out from underneath the bookshelf!" Hermione jerked her thumb at the large, heavy bookshelf in the corner. Harry closed his eyes and shook his head.

George, who had collapsed onto the floor at this point, got on his hands and knees and looked under the shelf, careful to avoid any swiping paws. He let out a shout of laughter. "He's got the Chudley Cannons logo shaved into his fur!"

* * *

><p>I've been assigned lines: "I must not make cheap Harry Potter sex jokes." As many times as it takes to fill the chalkboard in the Potions classroom. Mwahahaha SO WORTH IT. By the way, here's the link to my challenge competition-I really hope you'll sign up, I want to see your stories, too! (fanfiction [dot] nettopic/44309/43298270/1/)

Lucy


	35. I Love You

1 September 1998— "I Love You." (melissaeverlasting)

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood together on Platform 9¾ staring at the scarlet steam engine that was about to separate them for the first time in more than a year. Ginny came up behind them, pushing her luggage on a trolley. She laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled at them all.

"It's nearly time," she told Harry gently, kissing his cheek. Harry swallowed hard and nodded.

"All right, Hermione?" he asked. Hermione's lip trembled slightly, but she nodded and smiled at him. Harry opened his arms and gave her a tight hug. She gave a small sob against his shoulder. "Hey," Harry said, pulling away from her. "Christmas is just a few weeks away. We'll see you—soon," he said, swallowing again.

Hermione smiled and nodded again, wiping away a tear. She watched Harry walk away, holding Ginny's hand, then turned to Ron. Her chin shook, and she looked at her feet. Ron didn't say anything, but took her into his arms, and they embraced for several minutes. When they broke apart, Hermione had tears in her eyes, and Ron looked very discomfited.

"I wish you were coming with me," Hermione told him quietly. Ron nodded, holding her hands. "I've never been at Hogwarts without the two of you."

"Neville and Gin and Luna'll be there, and McGonagall. And you'll be home again soon," said Ron reassuringly. "We'll write all the time, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. The train whistle blew, and she looked around.

"Let's get you a seat, okay?" Ron said. He took Hermione's trolley and pushed it along the train, quickly finding the prefects' carriage. He helped Hermione carry her trunk onto the train and stow it in a luggage rack, and then they got off once again.

"You'll take care of Crookshanks?" Hermione asked.

"I'll tell you what, if I can catch him in the garden, I'll post him to you," Ron said. Hermione laughed and swatted him.

"Leave that cat alone, Ronald," she told him.

"If you insist." The train whistle blew again, and they smiled at one another.

"I'll see you soon," Hermione said, stepping close.

"I'll be right here," Ron promised.

And they kissed softly, but deeply, before Hermione hurried away to catch up with Ginny, who was holding open one of the carriage doors for her. Harry jogged over to where Ron stood with his hand raised in farewell.

The Hogwarts Express chugged to life, and Harry and Ron followed it along the platform, waving at the girls through the glass of the door.

"RON!" Hermione yelled, suddenly wrenching open the window and leaning out her arm waving wildly. Ron broke into a trot, trying to keep up with the train. "RON! I LOVE YOU!"

Ron froze, and stared at the train as it continued slowly down the platform, his mouth agape. Hermione's eyes didn't leave his. Then he seemed to wake suddenly. He bolted after the train, which was picking up speed and nearly out of the station.

"I LOVE YOU TOO, HERMIONE!" he screamed. Hermione's face broke into a wide smile, and she blew Ron a kiss before pulling back inside the train. Harry came running up behind Ron, panting slightly. Ron turned and grinned stupidly at him, looking a little dazed.

Harry rubbed a stitch in his side, rolling his eyes. "Only you two would take seven years to get together, then wait nearly five months to finally say 'I love you.'"

"Aw, don't be jealous," Ron said, placing Harry in a good-natured headlock and tousling his hair. "I still love you, too, whether or not you've been at the firewhisky." He batted his eyelashes, and Harry blushed beet-red.

* * *

><p>Hello my darling dears. I have something to share with you all. I'm thinking that I may be ending this particular collection of stories on Chapter 38, and let me tell you why. First, there are a TON of them here. Second, I want some time to refresh and recharge my Ron and Hermione batteries, including reading the books and movies again. I want to write longer, multi-chap pieces on some of the ideas I started here, but I need some time away from them to write well. Finally, the number of letters in Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger add up to 38, and it just feels like the right thing to do, since I've got two more chapters written, plus the wedding. The last three chapters will be mashed-up responses to multiple prompts that you, my readers gave me. If I ignored a prompt from someone, it was either because I have plans for a long story involving it, or because I simply didn't write it down. If, at the end of the story, you don't see something you gave me, tell me. If I forgot about it, I'll write it for you in a separate fic, dedicated to you, as my apology.<p>

I hope you'll put me on your author alerts; feeling the love you all give me for the way I care about Ron and Hermione has made them my passion, and these will most assuredly not be my last stories about them. I'll write a much better thank you in my final chapter.

AS FOR THIS CHAPTER: melissaeverlasting suggested the premise of Ron and Hermione separating to go to Hogwarts and training, and for that I'm grateful. Thank you!

Love you all,

Lucy


	36. Stung

2 September 1993—Stung

"Back off, Harry, back off!" Hagrid whispered urgently. Harry started to edge away from Buckbeak, who was glaring malevolently at him with one orange eye.

Hermione was positively trembling with fear. She jumped about half a mile when Harry snapped a twig underfoot, and snatched at Ron's shirt. Ron gave her an odd look, and she quickly released him.

"Ha!" Hagrid gave a great shout of laughter and tossed a dead ferret to Buckbeak, who caught it in the air and very delightedly tore it to bits, thoroughly enjoying his snack. "Well done, Harry, well done!" Hagrid said, starting to clap. The rest of the class followed half-heartedly—they didn't want to be next with the hippogriff.

"I reckon you can go and pat him, now, go on," Hagrid said. Harry glanced at him, but put one hand out tentatively and started towards the hippogriff. The creature snapped its beak, and Hermione jumped again, now grabbing Ron's hand. This time, Ron looked mortified, and Hermione released him as if she'd been stung, feeling ashamed.

"Not so fas', Harry," Hagrid said. Harry stopped where he stood. "Righ', now let him come ter you," Hagrid told Harry.

Hermione glanced sideways at Ron, who was staring at the hippogriff and rubbing his wrist absently. _Let him come to you_.

* * *

><p>Woo! Sorry it's so short, tomorrow and the day after are both lovely and long. I adore you all. You're so good to me. Your reviews bring tears to my eyes. I can't thank you enough.<p>

Lucy


	37. Song

This is not the song that I use in this story, so feel free to listen to that ("Magic Works" from GOF), but I have a recommended listening for you while you read this: "Waking Up" by OneRepublic. If you don't want to hear the whole thing, skip ahead to 3:15 when you see "Hermione was the last one." It's very specific, but that song is literally how I came up with the ending.

* * *

><p>28 September 2083—Song (HarrietB, tomgirl1219, banzi)<p>

Neither Ron nor Hermione ever felt that they had "a song" that was special just to them as a couple. While each of them felt things deeply, and they had their moments, certainly, they were not overly sentimental or romantic as a couple. They loved each other, and they showed that love in any simple way they could. That was more than enough for them, for almost eighty years of their relationship.

Late one night, the same day that they had all laid Harry to rest beside Ginny, Hermione sat alone in hers and Ron's bedroom. Rose, Scorpius, Hugo, and Amanda were downstairs with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, but Hermione didn't have the energy to mourn her best friends with anyone except herself. She had told them she was going to bed, kissed them all goodnight, and gone up by herself.

Hermione now sat in Molly's old rocking chair by the window, legs crossed and chin resting on her hand, and she began to hum to herself as she watched the rain drip down the windowpane. She had forgotten the words to the song a long, long time ago. Ron might have had a recording of it at one time—it was long gone, she had no idea where it could be. She smiled to herself. Ron had once told her she wouldn't be old until she started forgetting where he kept things safe, and then they were all doomed, because they'd never get into their bank vault again.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, feeling tears form. It had been a hard day, not that she hadn't become accustomed to saying goodbye to the people she loved, at her age. And to be honest, she hadn't imagined that Harry and Ginny would allow something as simple as death to separate them for long. She leaned back in her chair and relaxed, allowing her mind to wander as she hummed the song a little more loudly.

A flash of memory returned to her. The first time she had heard the song…she and Ron had danced to this song at—whose? One of the brothers—Bill's wedding. That's right. That's _right_, Ron had tried to twirl her and somehow had ended up on the floor. He had blushed scarlet, but she had helped him up, and they finished the dance. Dear Bill and Fleur, both long gone, but so very much in love, right to the end. Goodness, that dance had been before Hermione had even known she loved Ron.

_You know you've waited long enough._

And then their lives had been interrupted—they had to wait, once again. That time of the Second War…it almost felt like another life. Before she'd ever been a mother, or a wife, or had a gray hair to speak of.

Another flash. She'd been wrong—the very first time Hermione had heard this song was when she was only fifteen years old, dancing at the Yule Ball with that wonderfully sweet, if rather gruff boy from Durmstrang. Viktor, wasn't it? Yes, Viktor Krum. She wondered what had become of him, and hoped that his life had been as happy as hers.

_Believe that magic works._

Yes, magic had worked for her then. How else would a plain little girl like her have found a boy like Viktor? It was just like Cinderella.

Then, Hermione realized with a jolt, the song had also played at their wedding. That was _right_. She remembered thinking that it was perfect, for it said everything that she and Ron felt for one another.

_Don't let this magic die._

More memories returned to Hermione. She'd never noticed how often she thought of this song, every day she saw the people she loved and cared about. She had never noticed that in the fever of the Great Battle, she'd been playing it in her head. It was the rhythm of everything she did that night, and when she finally—_finally_—kissed Ron, it hit its crescendo.

_Don't be afraid of being hurt._

Hermione gave a soft cry of mingled understanding, happiness, and unbearable sorrow, clasping one hand over her mouth as fresh tears poured down her cheeks.

She remembered a too-bright morning, just a few years ago—though it could have been a thousand—lacing her hand into Ron's one final time, and feeling his wonderful warmth that had protected her for so long, leave her forever.

_Dance your final dance.  
><em>_This is your final chance to hold the one you love._

Hermione was the last one. Her beloved brothers and sisters were all gone, interspersed throughout the years. Then came Ron's goodbye. Then Ginny. And then Harry.

Hermione's eyes opened again, and she watched the rain slide down the window, wiping her face gently. Gazing at the glass was like seeing it from very far away, fuzzily—she didn't remember removing her spectacles. She rubbed her eyes and suddenly looked down at her hands in surprise. They weren't the same age-spotted, careworn, rather thin and shaky hands she had become used to seeing.

They were restored, slender and lovely. Her wedding ring was comfortably snug around her finger. Hermione felt more tears fill her eyes, when suddenly two wide, gentle hands covered hers. She looked up into Ron's wonderful, youthful face, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried from behind Ron, waving wildly at her. _She can see again_, thought Hermione. _Oh, thank goodness_. Ginny was beautiful, seventeen years old again, and she hung from a beaming, wonderfully handsome Harry's arms. It was then that Hermione realized that she was no longer in her dark little bedroom, and she too was years younger, her hair long, brown, and tangled as ever, her eyes clear. She gazed around. They—they were all on the lawn at Hogwarts.

The castle stood pristine and beautiful in the light of the early afternoon sun, its windows sparkling like diamonds. There was a great white tent standing on the bank of the lake, where dozens of people laughed and sang and danced together. That same old song was playing softly, and Hermione smiled. She looked back at Ron, and he nodded encouragingly at her. Hermione stood, feeling steadier and stronger than she had in many years, and took a deep breath of the fresh spring breeze that rolled across the lake.

Hermione locked fingers with Ron and looked over at all the people who seemed to have gathered to welcome her. There were Neville and Hannah, and their sweet daughter, Cat, with her small son. They looked overjoyed to see Cat again. Ernie and Susan lay in the grass with Colin Creevey.

Fred, darling Fred, stood with Molly and Arthur, and all of his brothers and sisters-in-law. Hermione's parents were arm-in-arm beside Molly and Arthur. Harry's parents, unmistakable, even though Hermione had never met them, laughed with Sirius, Remus, and Tonks all gathered around them.

An unscarred Alastor Moody stood near Albus Dumbledore, who had his arms around his beloved, beautiful sister and his handsome, laughing brother. Minerva, who was younger than Hermione had ever seen her, was sitting in the grass near them with her beloved Caradoc at long, long last.

Hermione smiled and looked at Ron, still holding his hands.

"I've missed you," she said softly.

Ron kissed her forehead. "It's been one hell of a wait for me, too. You were reading something, right? Just had to finish the chapter." He shook his head in mock annoyance, then pulled her closer into his arms.

Hermione laughed, and they kissed deeply, as if for the first time. The song played on.

_You must be brave, don't let this moment slip away  
><em>_Believe that magic works. Don't be afraid of being hurt.  
><em>_No, don't let this magic die. The answer's there,_

_Just look in her eyes._

* * *

><p>Song by Jason Buckle. The story's a mingling of prompts and suggestions from HarrietB, tomgirl1219, and banzi. Thank you.<p> 


	38. Wedding

1 January 2005—Wedding

Hermione's hands shook as she tried to apply a bit of pink blush to her cheeks. She dropped the brush, cursed under her breath, and laid her hands flat on Molly's vanity. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm going to pass out," she said hoarsely. Ginny, who held month-old James, shared a smile with Angelina, Fleur, and Audrey. They all sat on the end of Molly and Arthur's bed.

"You weel be fine, _ma petite_," Fleur told Hermione gently. She handed five-month-old Louis to Audrey and walked over to Hermione, placing both hands on her shoulders. "Come, let me do zis." She reached for the forgotten brush and makeup and sat down facing Hermione.

* * *

><p>"I think I'm going to die," Ron said, his voice cracking. "Does anyone else feel hot? I think I can feel my heartbeat in my eyes." He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his robes, blinking rapidly. Harry, Charlie, Percy, George, and Bill laughed, and Percy got up off of Bill's bed, coming over to straighten the offending garment.<p>

George chuckled and leaned against the wall beside Harry. "Maybe we should just do him in," he said to Harry. "Or at least knock him out. Might make Hermione angry, though."

Harry grinned and took Ron by both shoulders. "Ron, you know you're glad you're doing this."

"No, I bloody well don't!" Ron cried, shaking his head fervently.

* * *

><p>"How are we doing?" Molly asked excitedly, coming in the door to her bedroom, followed by Mrs. Granger.<p>

Hermione looked at Molly and Jean, her eyes wide. "I can't do this," she said. "I just can't!" She got up and ran into her mother's arms. Jean looked surprised, but stroked Hermione's hair sympathetically.

"Girls, why don't we give Hermione a moment?" Molly said, gesturing for the others to leave. She took James from Ginny, making cooing noises at him, and then followed her daughter out the door.

Jean smiled at Molly, then looked back at Hermione, who was still wrapped tightly in her arms. "Come here, sweetheart," she said, kissing the top of her head. "Sit with me." She guided Hermione to the edge of the bed and sat down.

* * *

><p>"Okay, Ron," Harry said, clapping him on the shoulder. "We're going downstairs. Think you can manage that?"<p>

Ron nodded weakly, unwilling to open his mouth. Harry steered him out the door after his brothers. As they reached the landing, they almost collided with Arthur.

"Oh, Ron, good," he said cheerfully. "Mind if I borrow him, Harry?"

Harry looked exasperated. "All yours," he said, releasing Ron and squeezing past them both.

"Ron," Arthur said. "I've got something I need to say to you."

* * *

><p>"Sweetheart, don't you <em>want<em> to marry Ron?" Jean asked.

"Of course I do," Hermione said, her eyes filling with tears. Her mother wiped them away gently with her handkerchief. "I just—I don't know if I'm ready for all this. I'll be with him for the rest of my life! I've never even considered other people! Even Viktor—it's always been Ron," she said.

Jean smiled. "You're right," she said gently, taking her daughter's hands. "It _has _always been Ron."

Hermione looked up at her mother.

* * *

><p>"Ronald," Arthur said, holding one hand on his son's shoulder. "I want you to listen to me, and listen well." Ron nodded. "Hermione is the best girl you could wish for. You're a lucky man, and you can't ever forget that."<p>

"I don't deserve a girl like her," Ron said weakly, shaking his head. "I—"

Arthur grinned. "Now you've got it! And as long as you always do your best to try, you'll be fine. You're a great young man, Ron. I'm proud of you." He hugged his son tightly.

"Dad?" Ron asked as his father pulled away and started down the stairs. Arthur looked back. "Did you deserve Mum?"

"Merlin's beard, no, and I still don't," Arthur said. "But I always try to." And with that, he winked and hurried down the spiral staircase.

* * *

><p>"You look beautiful," Molly said, circling Hermione with James in her arms. Hermione smiled, taking her father's arm as he offered it.<p>

"Just one final touch," said Ginny, gently tugging Hermione's dress straight. "Perfect," she said, stepping back to admire the effect. "All right. Time to line up," she said. She hurried over to give James a kiss and went to retrieve Teddy and Victoire.

Percy, Audrey, Bill, Fleur, George, and Angelina stood at the opening of the marquee. Fleur held Louis, and Dominique swung from her father's hand. George, carrying Freddy, stood next to Angelina. Teddy, the ring bearer, and Victoire, the flower girl, stood near Ginny. Hermione smiled at them all.

"Lovely," Bill said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. George winked at her, and Percy squeezed her arm with a broad smile.

"I love you," Jean said, hugging her daughter one last time. She kissed her husband, then left the tiny tent where the bridal party gathered away from the snowy lawn. She and Molly, still holding James, hurried up the aisle to their seats, closely followed by the others.

"Excited?" Ginny asked. Hermione nodded. "Good." She took Teddy and Victoire and went to her place at the opening, and Hermione and her father took their positions. Edward leaned over and kissed his daughter's temple. She smiled up at him, pulling him closer.

* * *

><p>Harry saw Bill, Percy, and George getting into their front-row seats with their families, and turned to Ron. "Excited?" asked Harry. Ron stared at him for a moment, then nodded.<p>

"Yeah, I am," he said, a grin spreading across his face.

"Good." Harry glanced at Charlie, who looked over to Luna, seated at her harp, and nodded. She began to play a soft, sweet melody, and Ron pulled his shoulders back, standing tall.

First down the aisle came four-year-old Victoire and six-year-old Teddy. Teddy held a white silk pillow with the rings tied to it, and shuffled along with Victoire, who fastidiously dropped one white petal from her little basket every few feet.

Ron chuckled to himself.

* * *

><p>Ginny glanced over her shoulder at Edward and Hermione, and smiled. She began her walk down the aisle, carrying a bouquet of snowdrops and white daisies in her hands. When she reached the altar, she came to Ron, kissed his cheek, and took her place.<p>

Luna's music changed, and the guests all got to their feet and faced the back.

Hermione heard the harp change tune, and looked up at her father. He nodded encouragingly, and she smiled. The guests stood.

* * *

><p>"Wow," Ron said softly, his mouth falling open. Hermione seemed to float down the aisle on her father's arm, her face alight with a kind of joy that he had never seen before.<p>

* * *

><p>Ron's mouth fell open, and Hermione wanted to laugh aloud. As she walked down the aisle, she saw her friends—Hagrid stood at the very back, tears already pouring down his cheeks; Ernie and a very pregnant Susan, with their two children; Seamus and Katie, with their three boys; Neville and Hannah, newly engaged; Dean, Lavender, and Parvati; all of them smiled at her as she passed.<p>

Near the front, at the seat Hermione had insisted be saved for her with the family, stood Minerva McGonagall, leaning on her walking stick. Tears sparkled in the headmistress's eyes, and Hermione began to feel herself well up.

* * *

><p>The dress was the most beautiful thing Ron had ever seen, though he admitted later that he was probably biased because of who was in it. It was completely without ruffles, and hugged Hermione's waist and hips, widening into a skirt that brushed the floor. The sleeves were short, edged with just a hint of lace, and a string of pearls hung at her throat. Her hair was gently curled, but sleek, and hung around her shoulders. Hairpins adorned with pearls held it back from her face. Hermione reached the altar and handed her bouquet to Ginny, her smile brilliant.<p>

* * *

><p>Hermione gave Ginny the bouquet and took Ron's hand, unable to stop smiling as she looked into his eyes and stepped onto the stair before Charlie.<p>

* * *

><p>"Welcome, everyone," Charlie called. The guests all seated themselves. "We're glad you made it. As you can see, Ron and Hermione picked a wonderful day for a wedding," he joked, gesturing to the clear sides of the tent, where snow covered the ground.<p>

"Rather than recite vows, Ron and Hermione have asked to speak their own, which they will do now," Charlie said. "Ron?"

Ron took a deep breath and held Hermione's hands. "There are a lot of people who should be here with us today," he said. Hermione's chin quivered, and she nodded. "People who loved us all, and who we still love. But there are also a lot of people who _are_ here." He looked out at his family, his classmates, his teachers, and smiled, holding Hermione's hands a little tighter. "And that's pretty miraculous. It's miraculous that so many of us are here, and in love, and—"

Baby James gave a soft wail, and Molly rocked him gently.

"Exactly," laughed Ron, grinning at his nephew. "But the most miraculous thing about it all, Hermione, is that I'm standing here with you. Being with you, knowing you for the last thirteen years is a miracle, and I know that spending the rest of my life with you will be, too. I love you, Hermione, and I always will."

Hermione's lips trembled, and she nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. She looked up into the air, trying to regain her composure, and noticed for the first time the large, sparkling chandelier that floated magically above the altar, revolving slowly. Her mind flashed back for a moment, and she looked at Ron with a broad smile.

"I should've insisted I go first," she said. Everyone laughed. "Ron, you've found some new way, every day since we've met, to annoy me," she said, smiling. Ron chuckled. "But you've also found a new way to make me fall in love with you. You make me a better person every day. You make my life brighter, and happier, every time you smile at me. I can't imagine not having you to drive me mad and then make me laugh about it, every day. You are the reason I can still smile, and the reason for so much of my happiness." Hermione's voice broke, and she looked down. "You're my miracle, too. I love you more than anything in the world," she whispered. Tears began to well again. "Always."

Ginny wiped a tear from her cheek, holding Victoire's hand. Harry swallowed and lifted Teddy into his arms, carrying him forward with the pillow. Ron reached out and tugged Hermione's ring free. Hermione retrieved Ron's band, and gave both Teddy and Harry a kiss on the cheek.

"Do you, Ronald Bilius Weasley, take Hermione Jean Granger to be your wife?" Charlie asked. "For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Ron said, his grin wide.

"Place the ring on her finger."

Ron slipped the golden band onto Hermione's hand, where it glittered with her engagement ring, and smiled at her.

Charlie turned to Hermione. "Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Ronald Bilius Weasley to be your husband? For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?"

"And longer," Hermione whispered, sliding the ring onto Ron's finger.

Charlie smiled and raised his wand. "Then I do declare you both bonded for life," he said, firing golden sparks into the air. He looked at his brother. "All right, go on."

Ron scooped Hermione into his arms and dipped her back, sharing a long kiss.

"Eww!" shrieked Teddy, and all the guests laughed. Ron and Hermione straightened, and everyone stood, applauding. They smiled at each other and ran back up the aisle, hand in hand, to the cheers of their family and friends.

* * *

><p>Holy cats. That's it. So many people I need to thank...but you all know who you are. You've stuck with me this whole way, and I love and appreciate you for it. Thank you for everything. I hope you noticed that Hermione got her chandelier...it was only fair. I hope that I'll continue to hear from you all on my future projects. Your support is everything to me. I hope that no matter when you read these, they'll brighten your day.<p>

Ronald Bilius Weasley + Hermione Jean Granger = 38 letters. 38 chapters of their lives together. :)

Thank you.

And yes, I may have borrowed the heartbeat line from Modern Family. ;) Ron and Luke sort of are the same person.


End file.
